Goodbye, my mate
It was a jagged kind of protection, sharp enough to cut.
Leo had scoffed when I'd spilled those thoughts, his head shaking slow, eyes shadowed with something heavier than I could name. "You know nothing about Father," he said, voice rough as gravel. "He's darker than you can ever imagine. All of this is just a game of the gods. You and I are just pawns to him." His words landed like a slap, and I felt my pulse stutter, caught on that phrase - game of the gods. Familiar, yet it slipped through my grasp, a half-remembered dream.
Gean pressed him, voice trembling. "What do you mean by the game of gods?" The question hung there, fragile, and he’d tilted his head, a sad smirk tugging at his lips.
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