Witch's Marsh Oh [m]y God, she looks so helpless, and her body's saying: "Hell yes."

Ignoring the dice roll because I can, lmao.

At the sound of his name, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold her, but not a single movement was made. He stood there, staring at her as she asked the question that he’d not wanted to hear, all whilst wishing that he could just leave. His ears folded back and he looked away from her, then made an attempt at removing himself; the second there was any sort of resistance, he’d ceased his attempts and went back to just standing still, silent. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to tell her—or anyone, for that matter—but, at the same time, that was all he wanted to do. He wanted for what had happened to be found out about and for his attacker to be punished, but never had he been able to say the words. It still hurt, but maybe…

“He attacked me,” was muttered, his gaze having yet to find its way back to her. “He drugged me, and then he—” His voice cracked and he went back to keeping quiet, watching the ground and hoping that it’d tear him away from her and then swallow him up. What would he accomplish by telling her? Every part of his mind believed that she’d deem him a liar, side with her brother and leave Alexander without anyone. Or if she did believe him, that she would do nothing about it, and he would get away with what he had done. And yet, despite his internal worries and beliefs, he’d ended up saying, “He did this to me.” But that wasn’t true, not entirely. Potema had wanted the albino, she’d encouraged him to have sex with her, which Xan had never once even thought to do with her brother. He had taken him by force, whilst his body could not move on its own, and ruined him in the worst way imaginable.