"Eme, would you like to explain yourself?"
Kneeling in front of Xavier, three days before the mating ceremony, I was being questioned with his beautiful smile.
"No, thank you." I answered, shrugging his question off like I was refusing an offer for food.
"Eme?" He repeated, the silver in his eyes glowing.
"Yes?" I asked with a look of ignorance, feigning innocence.
If this bastard was this kind, I would not be kneeling while he graced me with his presence in the dungeon. More so, be in a dungeon.
This, was indeed our years of friendship. How did this abominable thing deceive me? Oh that's right-- I had an equally abominable faith in him. I treated Xavier like a god. Just like his other fans. Disgusting.
We were locked in a stalemate as Xavier stared at me, lips smiling but eyes digging my intestines. Or even worst. This bastard was quite skilled at torture. Experience speaking here.
"What did I do wrong, Eme? Or... are you okay?"
He squatted down and leaned forward, pressing his hand on my neck. My breath hitched as I awaited death with closed trembling eyes.
If truly my boldness was strength, I would not fall. I wouldn't seek death this early. To put it bluntly, I am weak. And a scaredy-cat at that.
"Bastard." I muttered.
Yes, Xavier was close enough to hear and that was good. Surprisingly but unsurprisingly, he chuckled in response. Tch.
While death took longer than expected, I opened one eye to examine the situation.
He was unusually close, staring at my face with odd intensity. And out of reflex, I opened both eyes and moved backwards, kneels grazing the hard floor. As the sounds of my chains clanked with the sudden move.
Hiss!
I hissed at the pain from my scraped knee. I could feel it bleeding.
Damned bastard. Always bad luck!
"Emeralda Von Alsen, who are you?" Xavier asked.
With a sarcastic grin, I replied. "Omg you did not just say my name- I don't know, who am I? your mummy? I guess so too. Bastard child."
His expression was blank. His earlier amusement disappearing from his eyes.
This expression meant three things to me. One, the unpredictable. Two, death. Three, anger, which also equalled one and two.
I wondered which.
And I got my answers soon.
Red light flashed in my vision and I blacked out.
The last thing I remember being his raging eyes. Take an L, bastard sir.