It is like a man portraying different characteristics depending on the event and the subject. True to his nature, Zander wasn't any different.
The same hands that had cruelly tortured a man to his death now took care of his beloved with at most care.
His hold was gentle as though she would fall into pieces if he held her the wrong way. His gaze was filled to the brim with a different type of madness.
This time, it wasn't drunk of sadism. Rather, it was overflowing with love and adoration. So pure and foreign the feeling was such that he felt content with it.
Lila had yet to recover from the fever she had fallen into. The very time she whimpered out of pain, his heart would ache.
It didn't help that she kept calling out for her parents. Neither did it make it any easier when she began to curse at the monster.
He knew very well who she was cursing. Even in her sleep, she had nightmares about her younger helpless self.
