Broken Boulder i can't tell if the want justifies the need

tick, tick, tick, the moment beats by, delight allowing the silence between them to become suffocating before he opens his mouth again. he may as well be breathing fire for the tenor to his voice, cut like dragon's teeth. "is that all," a sharp exhale, "you have to say for yourself? are you --"

his voice breaks but he does not let himself cry, teeth snapping shut with an audible click. when he trusts himself to speak again he shoves on, ignoring if alarian's begun to speak or not. "you almost died, you ass," the androgyne snarls, unforgiving, "you almost died on top of me, and you have the -- the audacity to just leave like you aren't still hurt? like you have nothing here to live for?"

oh he hasn't forgotten the night shade, that pesky detail lost in the aftermath, zamael's panic and alarian's apology swallowed by blood. there's nightshade behind his eyes when he sleeps, imagining if he'd been a moment later, what alarian must have been doing, what he would have done to him! no -- he just can't allow it. he won't. even if he has to scream sense back into the governor, gnash his teeth and pull his ears and grasp him and make him see what's right in front of him.