Ouroboros Spine under divine law of the opus magnum

As they stood there in the damp chill of the rain, Mordecai found himself getting tired of their interaction. It came upon him steadily and quietly, choking out any desire he had ever had of wanting to not avoid her. He only wished it could have been as easy as saying things were stark black and white, that it was as easy as choosing who was an ally and who was an enemy. But Mordecai did not see the world in such black and white terms, and perhaps never would. It was all something else, some shade pulled from a scale of gray, with an always evolving meaning.

Her words bored him, being so vague. Where they should have probably piqued his interest, he found that they were unappealing. “What is it you want exactly?” he opted to ask. There were too many answers he could have chosen himself for everything that fell not under their present circumstances. Maybe it was a build up to some grand scheme that would benefit her and her alone, or maybe she had a more reasonable request beneath it all. Either way, it wasn't his place to assume or even guess, so he waited.