Felix's POV
She sat on the couch like she belonged there. Like she was not just another soft-hearted fool walking straight into fire.
"You know, I kind of hate what I do," I said, letting the words fall from my mouth like they did not matter. But they always did. Every word was a test.
She blinked. "You hate what you do?" She repeated it like she was tasting it. "Why?"
I looked at her, jaw tight. "Because I hurt people who do not deserve it."
That was the truth. I do not always aim. Sometimes the blade just lands.
Then I looked her straight in the eye.
"Do you hate me?"
I wanted to see it. Just a flicker of fear. Of doubt. At the moment she realized she should run but would not.
"I actually do not hate you," she said with a soft laugh, eyes cast downward like she was afraid I would see something in them. She had no idea I already had.
"You are the first person to care about me in a long time. I forgot what it feels like to be cared about."
Foolish girl.
