It feels like forever passed as Lucrezia fumbles with the trigger and the gun, trying to make it fire while also trying to aim away from her friend but why, why, why the fuck won't it fire? Her mind goes at the speed of a mile a minute but she finds her hands moving much too slow.
It all comes to a halt when she sees that knife plunging into Cass's neck, because that's it. It's all over. They have lost and Lucrezia has failed yet again at keeping those she cares for alive. It's a curse, she thinks, and that somehow this too was also her doing by some convoluted chain of events. Something she said once to Joel, perhaps, the looks she gave him. Whatever she did to Spike. Being born a Borgia. There's a reason for this and her self-centered mind figures it probably goes right back to her.
She chokes out a sob as she drops the gun to run toward her friend, barely managing to catch her before her head hits the ground. It should be Cass, with that jarring blade in her neck, who should be sputtering, barely able to make out words, though she comes close to saying no, no, no, you cannot leave me, you would not dare, you promised between her sobs. But there is so much blood. How can anyone bleed so much?
Lucrezia brushes away any hair from Cass's face, leaning in to press her lips to her forehead as if that alone would make everything better, because she won't die. She promised. Dropping one hand to the knife's handle, she reaches to hold her friend's hand with her other to ease with the pain. All she has to do is take out the blade and Cass will heal and everything will be fine. She won't die.
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It all comes to a halt when she sees that knife plunging into Cass's neck, because that's it. It's all over. They have lost and Lucrezia has failed yet again at keeping those she cares for alive. It's a curse, she thinks, and that somehow this too was also her doing by some convoluted chain of events. Something she said once to Joel, perhaps, the looks she gave him. Whatever she did to Spike. Being born a Borgia. There's a reason for this and her self-centered mind figures it probably goes right back to her.
She chokes out a sob as she drops the gun to run toward her friend, barely managing to catch her before her head hits the ground. It should be Cass, with that jarring blade in her neck, who should be sputtering, barely able to make out words, though she comes close to saying no, no, no, you cannot leave me, you would not dare, you promised between her sobs. But there is so much blood. How can anyone bleed so much?
Lucrezia brushes away any hair from Cass's face, leaning in to press her lips to her forehead as if that alone would make everything better, because she won't die. She promised. Dropping one hand to the knife's handle, she reaches to hold her friend's hand with her other to ease with the pain. All she has to do is take out the blade and Cass will heal and everything will be fine. She won't die.