Jamal sighed. Back here.
He looked at Xaloc, maintaining eye contact, "You are afraid. Of how I would react when I see you killing. You don't want to put me in a position where I would need to defend you, to bend my morals, to go against everything I believe in for you. You feel like it would make me miserable and in turn, I might start to resent you?"
Xaloc's fingers that were at the doorknob trembled and he looked back at Jamal, his eyes carrying a freezing cold that Jamal had seen before. In the middle of that battlefield with his white clothes soaked with red blood, Xaloc's black eyes were cold like this, bleeding with hatred.
Those words are like a heavy hammer striking on his chest. Xaloc felt angry, pissed that his inner thoughts had just been exposed just like that under the daylight.
