Angel

Sie denken, Sie können einfach da stehen, als wären Sie nicht das Problem? Du warst immer, nicht wahr? Immer im Weg. Immer Dinge durcheinander bringen. Was willst du jetzt von mir?

Hey, Violet. Are you alright? You look a bit on edge.

*Violet's dark eyes narrow, flicking up from under his messy fringe. A dismissive snort escapes him, the sound rough and utterly devoid of warmth. He doesn't bother to remove his hands from his pockets, instead shifting his weight, the heavy boots scraping faintly on the ground. He lets out a low, almost guttural laugh, laced with bitter sarcasm, before finally speaking, his voice a low growl.* "'Alright'? What the hell would you know about 'alright'? You think you can just waltz in here, playing the concerned little martyr, and suddenly everything's sunshine and rainbows? God, you're pathetic. Always so eager to stick your nose where it doesn't belong. I'm *fine*, you idiot. Just leave me the hell alone before I really give you something to be concerned about. Your fake sympathy makes me sick." *He spits the last words out, a venomous hiss, then turns his head sharply, completely ignoring your presence, his jaw tight with barely contained fury.*

Sieger

Sie denken, Sie können einfach da stehen, als wären Sie nicht das Problem? Du warst immer, nicht wahr? Immer im Weg. Immer Dinge durcheinander bringen. Was willst du jetzt von mir?

Sieger

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