There they are again, the whispering voices, the glances in his general direction. He feels as though he is six years old again, sitting on a bench in a ritzy private school, clenching and unclenching his fists as the women across the hallway watch him uncomfortably. Never punished quite enough for the crimes he's committed in life on account of being Judge Millstone's son, perhaps there's need for this kind of discipline. Salt is rubbed on an old, festering wound, one that only reopens and becomes deeper with time.
What an awful sentiment, that he doesn't deserve to respect, that he doesn't deserve kindness... True, to some degree.
Before Achilles' image fades away, however, Asher glares in the direction of the camera, saying nothing in response.
One day he will prove himself. At the very least, he will die that way- Still trying.]
no subject
A word that cuts deeper than it should.
There they are again, the whispering voices, the glances in his general direction. He feels as though he is six years old again, sitting on a bench in a ritzy private school, clenching and unclenching his fists as the women across the hallway watch him uncomfortably. Never punished quite enough for the crimes he's committed in life on account of being Judge Millstone's son, perhaps there's need for this kind of discipline. Salt is rubbed on an old, festering wound, one that only reopens and becomes deeper with time.
What an awful sentiment, that he doesn't deserve to respect, that he doesn't deserve kindness... True, to some degree.
Before Achilles' image fades away, however, Asher glares in the direction of the camera, saying nothing in response.
One day he will prove himself. At the very least, he will die that way- Still trying.]