[ Know whether to hate you or -- The rage deflates into a hollow-eyed exhaustion. It wasn't her who did this. He knows that much. Wicked as she can be, wicked as he'd love to see her be, the curse was a fluke. All that's left in its wake is jangled feelings, disorientation and self-doubt. ]
[ Doesn't he still hate her? Doesn't he still want to kill her? ]
[ Of course he does. That should be obvious without the still. But then why am I ...? He shakes it off, meeting her gaze head-on, ]
If it wasn't you, then who...?
[ It's not a question aimed at her. He seems to be asking himself. ]
[private]
[ Doesn't he still hate her? Doesn't he still want to kill her? ]
[ Of course he does. That should be obvious without the still. But then why am I ...? He shakes it off, meeting her gaze head-on, ]
If it wasn't you, then who...?
[ It's not a question aimed at her. He seems to be asking himself. ]