[ A soft green continued to paint along the area round them, twisting throughout the air to settle in their bones. Usually, Adder enjoyed the emergence of the fire and everything that went along with it but he knew the danger always lurking within it, ready to consume more than it should. Fighting against such instincts exhausted him, just like feeling so much of everything and everyone around him. Relief did not come easily but maybe it shouldn't. Maybe he deserved every single ounce of the agony for things he had little control over.

Death would always be hated and the one who guaded it even more. They loathed him and what he represented, never mind the fact they shoved it all at him in the first place.

When it came to Ros, he wanted and needed to be more than just the monster. Longed to rise above and be to him what he witnessed in the just they collected. There were some who loved with such a beauty but he feared never having the capability for it.

This proved he didn't at all. ]

The scars won't be attractive. [ He warned, hips moving back up on pure instinct, leaning up to suck and lick the blood from Ros' face. ] It'll be bumpy and raised up no matter what we do.

[ At least, he reigned it back in before anything worse happened. ] We're putting the paste on. I know how bad it hurts. I've seen what it does. [ The skin already had such a dark red appearance; blistered and angry. ]