He loved her?
Quietly she lifted her eyes and settled them on Vitruvion. He had lowered his hand, the barrier fading into nothing when Nevin had explained them further - then slowly drew back into a stiffer, straighter position. His chest rose and fell, the habits of breathing coming back into his body as Stare looked with honest confusion and at a loss for words.
“What …” she whispered, “What does he …?”
“Stare is mine,” Vitruvion said in a small, but confident voice. “More than anyone will ever know. Her race was made, then discarded by the being we refer to as my ‘father’ … Ansaldo. They were discarded here, to this planet and I found her. I have a right to her, she is mine.”
He said the last word with a supreme amount of authority and confidence. As he did his hand rolled into a fist, and prepared to do anything at all to keep her to him. Stare’s brow furrowed, her initial reaction being disbelief, that Vitruvion had any positive feelings for her at all but … but she had to admit it. First reactions were never right. Instead, he had promised her in recent times never to abuse her, never to rape her, had told her time and time again as to how much she was worth to him …
She dropped her eyes and looked at the desk before her. Tension flickered between the two of them, and she felt a lump form in her throat, thinking of all the hatred she often felt towards him.
“I am … his,” she admitted with a whisper. “He's literally my god, Nevin.”
Nevin tilted his head to the side as he watched them, listened to Vitruvion speak. He had pushed magic back to his eyes - and there was shock in Stare’s emotions, running towards Vitruvion, followed by flickers of surprise, confusion, doubt, bleeding to warmth. Vitruvion on the other hand kept that brilliant glow, though it did flicker to feelings of possessiveness as he spoke. There was a strange half-smile on his lips as he shook his head. “It seems you can’t hide from these eyes. Acceptance, possessiveness, they are masques over a deeper love. Even if she is yours, of a race from the world you came from and your father made - you have left an indelible mark upon her. You’ve probably met other Kenku, but none of them are yours in the way she is, are they? That, that she is yours, when you say that, there are other words that you want to say, but cannot.” The half-smile stayed on his lips as he shook his head.
“That feeling is a power in and of itself, Vitruvion. Normal, mortal men have challenged and slain gods for it. What could you do, I wonder?” The red light faded again and he rubbed his forehead. It seemed doing that put a strain on him, as he wasn’t used to using his magic that way just yet.
