Selvara stood a few steps away from him.
Her face was flat, unreadable.
But her eyes carried weight like stones.
She breathed in once.
"Junior," she said quietly. "I just have some last questions."
Azrael tilted his head, sharp voice but teasing.
"Are you in some kind of depression or what?" he said with a half-smirk.
He only wanted to see her reaction. He knew she was wrestling with something heavy inside.
Selvara glared, the ice in her eyes flashing.
"Come on. Hear me out."
He shrugged and leaned back against the stall.
The smirk faded.
"I'm all yours," he replied, softer now.
Her ice-blue eyes locked on his.
There was no running from this.
"Junior… tell me. What do you think of me?"
Azrael blinked once.
"Well, that's a stupid question," he said bluntly.
Her lips tightened, her face twisting into anger.
"Just tell me."
He scratched his chin, let out a slow clench of teeth. Clench.
"You're not easy to define," he said at last. "But fine, I'll give it."
