Stone Circle the blood on my hands scares me to death

He couldn't offer much. Of course not. Nobody could, not really. Everybody wanted to help, but only if it would cost them zero. If it cost them anything at all, then it was too much to ask already. Laurel knew that, and she wasn't sure why she kept trying to reach out to others. She hadn't in a long time, not until now. He could be here. What did that mean? I was there. Laurel felt uncomfortable as she heard Iliksis' voice whisper his poisonous truths. Do you think he'll be there for you in the same way? She swallowed dryly while West continued to explain that family's there for each other, no matter what.

He'll be there for you, no matter what.

What had she done? Why had she reached out to someone like that? He would — he was going to — No, worse, she had given him the green light to.

Laurel froze as he continued to say that nobody is perfect but that family and Easthollow meant loving someone despite their flaws. I loved you, dearest. I still do. Despite all of your flaws. Laurel wanted to snap back that he didn't love her, that he had never loved her and that — but she wasn't alone. She looked at West and smiled, forced and frightened. Please don't hurt me, her own voice broke through her mind, broke through all of the whispers of the man who still held her hostage, even after all this time.

What.. What is love? asked Laurel, her voice trembling. He had just explained it, but she had to do something, ask something, keep the conversation going because when friendly conversation ended... She knew what happened then. If nobody knows you, how can they love you? Is it — does it matter? Whether we know each other? And how does one get to know each other, how does one get to the point of knowing whether one can love others despite their flaws, despite what they've done? What kind of... What love do you speak of? The last question was posed in a fragile manner. Laurel wasn't even sure what she was doing or saying anymore at this point. She didn't know what to say or do really, she just wanted him to say something, anything, to make her feel less afraid. For the impending doom to steer away from her. Because if silence fell between them, he would say all sorts of things, such as —

You want him, don't you? And she couldn't scream no in the middle of this conversation, so she could only sit there and hear his poison whispered into her mind for every second that West or she wasn't talking.