sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

     ”I‘m not stopping you, y’know.”

“You — you can’t possibly — ” Except, of course, he did. She could taste it, unfamiliar and so tempting. The knowledge shocks every other emotion out of her. From pale, she colours, ducking her head. Too many responses tangle on her tongue, leaving her speechless, able only to give him a pleading look.

        “B-but I do,” he stutters, falling silent and for a long time he observes her, the way she reacts, the way she pales and lowers her head, the way she remains silent. “But your my feelings aren’t returned,” Mordred mutters, nodding slightly before he turns and heads out of the room.

Summer is still captive to shock when Mordred walks away, and the most she can do is lift a hand, take a fumbling step forward, before he is gone. Blindly, she makes her way back to the lower town, conscious of very little save that she had someone hurt him irredeemably, and did not know how to fix it.