Inside the temporary throne hall, two figures stood dangerously close to each other, so close that even their breaths collided in the narrow space between them. Their blades pressed against each other's necks, lingering just a few inches away from carving through flesh and ending everything in a single motion.
Drip...
Blood slowly traced thin lines down both of their necks, as neither of them moved.
Their eyes locked, unblinking, as if both were waiting for the other to falter first.
After what felt like an eternity, Aether's lips curled slightly, his voice low and edged with cold disdain.
"You love me? What kind of ass joke are you trying to tell?"
Mary let out a sharp, humourless laugh, her smirk twisted with disgust as her grip tightened around the hilt of her blood-forged sword. The weapon pulsed faintly, as if feeding on her irritation.
"Oh, fuck you. I would rather eat shit than love you. That thought alone makes me sick!! Yucck!!"
