EMERY
With my arms crossed, I bury my eyes in his, hoping that this will stab him in the heart. Through my gaze, I want him to suffer. I want to scare him. I want him to feel my hatred for him. I want him to look down. I want him to feel guilty. I want him to blame himself. I want him to beg me to spare him. I want to hear his excuses. His pleas. I want Arwan to be devastated to the point of never rising again, all under the power of my gaze.
But, of course, none of that happens.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, leaning against the door while holding it ajar.
