𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲.

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❝ 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

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❝ 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬
𝐛𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬
𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. ❞

- marquis de sade.

          𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈 𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 hesitant on the trigger

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          𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈 𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 hesitant on the trigger. The gun shakes a little in his hold, but he keeps it trained on Nozomi, green eyes flickering back and forth between his daughter and Eli. Nozomi maintains her stance, determination crossing her features. Whatever was to happen, Nozomi knew that she’d follow her heart to the very end. No matter what Eli was, Nozomi knew that she still loved her–

          –and that was the only thing that Nozomi knew to be completely, utterly, true amongst the swirls of lies she had been ensnared in.

          “Please, don’t shoot, Otto-san.

          Her voice quivers, but she holds her ground, locking her gaze firmly on her father. She prays that he really wouldn’t; she’d be twice as devasted at the fact that he was willing to pull the trigger to avenge his dead wife, rather than protect his living daughter.

          “Nozomi,” he breathes steadily, not batting an eye. “Move aside. That is a murderer you are defending.”

          Nozomi’s breath catches in her throat, just as she feels Eli’s hand squeeze her arm gently. She couldn’t deny the fact that Eli indeed did kill people, and she couldn’t stop her father from sticking to his duties.

          “It’s okay,” she whispers, and Nozomi feels a tear surface as she’s led to the side, and as Eli gently kisses her forehead. “I should probably surrender, too. I have nothing else to live for — at least, not anymore.”

            Nozomi reacts instantly, angered. “What are you talking about? Live for me!”

            Nozomi takes herself aback by how selfish it sounded: but she fights back with the notion that she wanted–no–needed Eli in her life — she couldn’t imagine a day without the person she loved the most. It would be too much to bear. Just this once, she wanted to be selfish, wanted Eli to herself. She gave her something no-one else could, the feeling of home — of love.

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