A little chunk of hope // TW: Alcohol

[SETHIRAM]

Sweet dreams are made of this,
Who am I, to disagree?

Red backed up into the tree, anguish in her eye as she stared up at Lucinder. He... cared. About her. It was a wicked idea, something she hadn't expected. She was uncomfortably silent, staring up at him, eye a myriad of emotions. Grief, anger, fear, maybe something more. But she shut her eye to the world and tried to steady her breathing. She couldn't tell if the alcohol was already fading off (if it was, it was all thanks to the blood within her, the divine curse), but her thoughts had cleared slightly.

Opening her eye, meeting his with an equal amount of fury, she spoke. "You don't know enough about me to care; you don't know what I am, what I've done, where I've been." She could feel the anger in her chest, and it fueled whatever memories of him she had. Too vivid were the thoughts of the black canid, the one who had stolen her heart once before, and she didn't know if he'd given it back.

— Reggan