Evan's blood stains his hands, and Vincent cries. Or is the blood now Habit's? The lines have become so blurred, and he can't help but want to cross them. He longs to leap over that line, run into the fire, and let himself burn. And so he does. He pulls the person, the entity, into a soft kiss. They tense at first, and it does too, but relaxes soon after. He doesn't flinch as he feels the knife go through his neck, and instead smiles. He'd throw himself into flame a thousand times over if it meant he could hear Evan slip through, even if only for a second, speaking broken words of apology. "I love you, always" and Evan's words carry a thousand meanings. It's an apology, a promise, a warning. Vincent slumps in the creature's arms, his grip loosening and his chest no longer rising with breaths of life.
