Tianmo did not speak right away, allowing her trembling form to cling to him. He could feel the erratic rhythm of her heart against his chest, a slow agitated drumbeat that mirrored the chaos of her soul.
"You are trembling," he noted, his voice a small rumble that seemed to vibrate through her body. He reached down, his large hand covering the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her dark hair, forcing her to look up at him. "Is the world so cruel, sister?"
Ling'er's eyes, little wide and mostly watery, locked onto his. The madness in them didn't vanish, but it was tempered by a desperate, pleading vulnerability. The sharp edges of her Yandere nature were dulled by the fear of losing him, leaving only a raw, unadulterated need to be close. Her father was dead and now he was being hunted. It felt like the sky had collapsed on her life. She is but a woman, trying to learn about life and Dao.
