A Daughter's Love

Chapter Twenty-One.

Vulcan.

Persistence, power, determination, fire. Those were the words that I would use to describe Malia, daughter of Evangeline. Her mother had managed to defeat me once before but she had a god trapped inside her, she was a goddess, on equal footing. Malia was simply a Heart, awakened as a siren. Her fierceness, her unpredictability during a fight was unmatched and it was her talent for catching you off guard that led to her victory in the end. That along with her sheer determination and inability to give up. I controlled and manipulated the fire but Malia, she was the fire, personified. She was the ocean, powerful and reckless. Never before had a Heart won against me in a fight, both Evangeline and Pandora having been goddesses when they challenged me but there was a first time for everything and Malia was that first. I groaned, head rolling from side to side before my eyes blinked open, taking in the sight of the ruined world around us, the burning torches, starry sky, the blood stains that littered both the walls and earth. My burning eyes squeezed themselves shut then dared to open again when I felt something weighing down my arm. Glancing to my side, Malia lay with her head and hand on my extended arm, her body curled in on itself, face shrouded in a peaceful sleep though she was covered in blood, bruises and very little clothing from how her dress had been torn, shredded and left dangling from her small, frail body. How could something so innocent, fight with such rage and fire? I rolled onto my side with a deep, grunted groan, able to still feel the wounds she had inflicted, including the pain that shot through my jaw. My free arm slid underneath her lower body, pulling her form closer to me when I sat up among the wreckage, eyes scanning the scene. If our battle had taken place in a town or village, nothing would have remained, not one person could’ve outran our violent dance but there it was just us, just our bodies that ached with the traces of war. Her head came to a rest on my shoulder, arms limp and lips slightly parted, inhaling and exhaling in shallow breaths. At the start of the fight, I was certain I would win, halfway through I managed to taste her, to experience the crimson that flickered within her soul despite her aqua heart and near the end, after watching her get up every time she was struck down, I had to beg, had to plead for her to stop. She was like a lion who had run from one end of the continent to the next and was still running regardless of whether her paws bled or her eyes stung or her body ached from exhaustion, she pushed on. She had no boundaries when it came to war, she could push them and keep pushing them until she won and that in itself intrigued me. She was so wounded, moments away from collapsing yet she still rose to her feet and fought on with every bit of strength she had left. I knew that after ramming her into the gate, even if she lost, passed out or gave up, I would grant her both my blessing and my aid in retrieving the Leandros sword which was why I attempted to get her to stop but she didn’t, she won with her own hands, her own strength. My gaze studied her features, her tan flesh, her swollen bottom lip, the bruises that littered the bridge of her nose and stretched out to beneath her eyes. Her dirty blond curls were soaked in blood, dried flecks forming on her forehead, cheeks and chin, even trailing down her back and neck. The right strap of her dress had been torn from the boulder I had thrown, her entire shoulder covered in one large, black bruise that was left expose since the dress hung down to just above her breasts on that side. Her stomach was exposed, the hole where she had been impaled completely healed but there was still blood, still scabs and bruises that would take longer to heal. I reached for one of her hands, small but covered in calluses from fighting, knuckles bruised and bloody, nails stained from the substance. Both her wrist and ankle were swollen and black, even though the fabric of her gloves and boots. I held her close, rising to my feet with her dangling from my arms, head resting on my chest, bobbing along with my movements as I headed for my throne, the staircase once again forming before me as I climbed them, moving past the throne and deeper into the rooms of the Coliseum that I inhabited. The iron gates began to open, creaking as they did and the staircase once again crumbled behind me, preventing anyone from following us to that wing of the Coliseum. My bed chambers were just within the walls, large gaping windows looking out onto the Roman city surrounding us. White curtains swaying in the cold, evening breeze when I lay Malia down on the mattress of my bed, covered in red sheets, the frame made of bronze. She mumbled something in her sleep when I let go of her that sounded like a protest but I ignored it and moved to the couch that sat off to the side. It was an old piece, made of metal and scratchy material much like the bed was and a marble table sat across from it. I collapsed onto the piece of furniture, one foot planted firmly on the ground while the other was slung over the side of the couch, my arm thrown up to conceal my eyes from the fire that burnt in the centre of the room where a bonfire had been lit to keep the room heated. Persian rugs lined the stone flooring while tapestries and paintings hung from the walls, murals painted to depict the many great wars that have transpired over the years such as the battle of troy and world war one. There were no candles to provide light, only torches “You lost” the feminine voice wasn’t the voice I wanted to hear. It wasn’t Malia, standing over me with her chin raised and her shoulder’s rolled back, no, it was my witch, the witch who represented my fire and bloodshed. I let my arm drop away from my eyes and blinked at the image of a woman dressed all in red, stood across from me, on the other side of the great fire “Vanya” I greeted the woman who pushed back the hood of her scarlet cloak, causing her crimson curls to come tumbling down past her shoulders, an even darker shade of red than her clothing. Her white eyes that appeared orange past the flickering flames glared at me with distaste and the crescent moon in the centre of her forehead gave away what she was “You let her win” the witch accused me, her pale flesh dancing with shadows of the fire that burnt between us. I groaned, moving to sit upright and met her gaze with an emotionless expression plastered across my features. My face was littered in bruises, my jaw swollen from having been dislocated, head covered in flakes of dried blood on one side from where Malia had used my own battle hammer against me. My leg still ached were she had cut me with her dagger and my chest was covered in a map of dark purple, almost black bruises, knuckles torn and bloody. What part made her believe that I threw the fight? “I wanted to, but she beat me to it” I admitted, hand moving to rub at my aching jaw, the sting of her last blow still fresh in my mind. Vanya grimaced and began pacing her way around the bonfire, hand outstretched, fingers dancing through the flames as though they were her loyal dogs, lapping at the flesh of their master “Do you realize what you have done?” she questioned, her black heels clicking against the stone flooring while she moved but stopped abruptly when she halted, her gaze boring into the form of the girl, curled up among my sheets, face peaceful and knees slightly bent “You will have to bless her-.” the sorceress began, pulling her hand out of the fire and bringing with it a flame that danced in her palm and laced itself in between her parted fingers. I remained silent, knowing fully well what terms I’d agreed to before the fight even began “And aid them in retrieving the sword-.” her cloak slid from her extended arm, revealing various crimson patterns that had been engraved into her flesh. Ancient tribal symbols accompanied by magic spells that had been bound to her body to use in case of an emergency. Her magic wasn’t dark like Aurella or Charis but it was more sinister than the white magic Riona and the others preferred to use “An act of betrayal that will pin you against Amun during this inevitable war” I shook my head, feeling the throbbing at the back of my skull, begging for me to rest but ignored it and glanced in Malia’s direction. She was just as strong if not even more so than me. She was able to bring down a god on her own which intrigued me enough to want to keep her close, to keep her all to myself. It made me ponder over what other wild cards Neptune had up his sleeve “Then let us go to war” I insisted which drew Vanya’s attention away from Malia and onto me. She stormed closer, her cloak parting and hair dancing in the fierce breeze that whipped through the room, revealing the deep red dress that she wore underneath the article of clothing “Against Amun? Have you forgotten who he is?” she demanded, the fire flaring up her arm to snake its way around her throat, tangling in between her hair and slithering into her nostrils, eyes and mouth “He is the ruler of the gods, the god of the gods!” she erupted, her aura even more threatening than mine and her temper as unpredictable as a forest fire. I didn’t need reminding and ran a hand across my face, where I could stand to touch it. My eyes somehow always managed to make their way back to the sleeping woman, taking in her parted lips and gently clutched fists, hands so small yet so powerful that they could bring me to my knees. Vanya noticed the way I looked at her, nostrils flaring when she turned on her heels “You are a fool!” she bellowed, storming her way to the bonfire where she turned to glare back at me with narrowed, ashen eyes “A god of war, weakened by his desire for love!” she spoke the truth, stepping into the flames and disappearing in a single flare, leaving behind a rainfall of ash and smoke. I groaned and laid back down on the couch, eyes blinking up at the carved stone ceiling, listening to the fire crackle as I registered her words. I had fallen for Pandora but she chose Balor instead of me and like a lost puppy I visited her, desperate even for a single stolen kiss. I fell for Evangeline but my attraction was hardly noticed among Caleb and my brother’s battles for a heart. Regardless of the fact that I had been abandoned twice before, I still hoped that this time it would be different. I fell asleep, thinking about Malia, her determination and the lion trapped within her that roared so dominantly in my face whenever she was cornered. She feared nothing and believed that she sat at the top of the food chain. Never before had an opponent prayed to me for strength during a battle, a tactic that had managed to catch me completely off guard along with her hair changing colour and her skilled use of my weapon. She was full of surprises which made her captivating and utterly mesmerising to not just me but to any man that witnessed her true strength. She was flawless and if I wasn’t a god myself, I would assume her to be the goddess Venus, whom the mortals had created from their own imaginations.

Malia.

I groaned, turning onto my side and squeezing my eyes shut when the sun’s rays poked at my closed eyelids. Was I still passed out on the floor of the Coliseum? How long had it been since I’d fallen unconscious? My hands patted the world around me, fisting a scratchy material instead of dirt. I blinked my eyes open, taking in the sight of the world around me. At first it was a blurred image of light and structures, a fog of red, grey and white but later it began to focus the more I blinked and my eyes adjusted to the light. I was laying on a bed with large arch windows overlooking Rome to one side and a door that exited into the arena of the Coliseum to the other. There was a bonfire at the heart of the room, flickering brightly and dancing in the early morning breeze that carried the ivory curtains along with them. I studied the various paintings, murals and tapestries before taking in the vase beside the bed, painted in an ancient Roman style “f**k” I cursed, my hand reaching for the back of my head where it was throbbing the most, sitting on my knees with my back to the room and eyes staring at the wall, my dress dangling from one shoulder and torn over my abdomen. When I didn’t feel any fresh blood, I concluded that the wound had already healed and dangled my legs from the side of the bed, using the large vase to steady myself when my legs felt like they would give way beneath me at any moment. Slowly, I began to follow the wall, running my hands along it and heading in the direction of running water, able to hear it trickling from somewhere close by and allowing it to blindly guide me, eyes squeezed shut due to the pain in the back of my skull. I only peaked every now and then to see the path ahead, slipping down a corridor and stumbling across the hall into the opposite wall where a doorway stood, steps leading down into a room that had a pool carved into its floor, warm water trickling into it through the nostrils of great concrete bulls. I staggered toward the pool, stripping out of my dress, allowing it to fall to the floor where I had abandoned my boots as I stepped onto the stairs that led deeper into the bath. I breathed in deep at the calming, familiar caress of the liquid, eyes closing to savour the feel as it swirled around my thighs and hips until I was stood at the heart of the bath, my gaze locking onto the image before me of structures that stretched to reach the heights I was on but failed in their attempt. The archways seemed to appear throughout the Coliseum, gaping holes that acted as windows through which the wind would howl and red Lenten rose petals would be scattered across the floor, floating upon the surface of the pool. It was a sight more beautiful than any other. I cupped the water in hand, rubbing it tenderly across my arms, chest, waist and shoulders, feeling it heal the bruises that have yet to be healed, the spots fading before my very eyes. The water turned a murky red when I fell beneath the surface, consuming my entire body and dancing through my hair, crusted with dried blood. I felt air bubbles escape my lips when I reached up to run my fingers through the strands, washing them while my anchor necklace swayed between my body and the surface that was just overhead. The light that bounced off the water created a ripple of white, so bright that I had to squint to clearly see its rays. I aimed for them when I stood and breached the surface, gasping, hands moving to push my hair back and out of my face. Droplets trickled down my nose and chin when I blinked at the city below. The fields of Lenten roses, as scarlet as Vulcan’s eyes, the old structures and streets bustling with people who didn’t know that I was there, watching their every move. I stiffened when I felt a ripple through the water followed by a sudden rise in temperature that caused my skin to burn. My body turned quickly, arms lowering to dangle at my sides when it did so, meeting with those very crimson eyes I had been thinking of just moments before. Vulcan stood at the top of the steps that led into the bath, his body nude and hair undone from its braid, stretching down to his rear. I quickly tore my gaze from the space between his legs, keeping them locked on his eyes that roamed across my exposed flesh with little shame. He studied the shape of my breasts, their size and the way they were formed then lowered to my tone stomach and the curve of my hips until they dipped even lower to the crevasse between my legs that was just hidden beneath the surface of the water. Once inside the tub, he began to wash himself, scrubbing his flesh free of the blood that coated it, steam rising between us like a curtain from his body heat. He was an erupting volcano whereas I was the chilling storm. I watched him as he worked, the way his muscles rippled and moved, how the water dissolved shortly after coming in contact with his skin, evaporating from the heat. He was so close yet so far and the thought caused the blood to rush to my cheeks. I quickly turned my back to him, hiding my face when I realized what was happening. Since when did Malia May Campbell ever blush? Or felt the need to conceal her naked body? My arm moved to cover my chest, crushing my breasts in the process as I waited for him to finish and leave. The man dove beneath the surface of the water, resurfacing directly behind me and catching me off guard. I yelped when his hand trailed its way up my thigh, to my hip and around my waist to gently press its palm against my stomach, forcing my back into his chest. He was scorching, his presence causing my body to sweat and my mind to grow dizzy “I was expecting there to be some trace of a scar” he uttered, his lips brushing across the shell of my ear. I stood starkly still, waiting for his next move, unable to run even if my body screamed for me to retreat. He was my captor and I was his property in that moment, unable to defy him. The fingers of his free hand danced across my arm as if searching for some kind of a flaw but there were none, only scales that began to form, glittering blue and green in the morning light. He studied them, tracing them as though they were made of glass and sending a shiver down the back of my spine. My breathing trembled and my body shook in reaction to the feather light touch. How was such a brute of a man who had nearly destroyed me just hours prior, able of touching someone so tenderly? “I’ll just have to try harder to leave one next time” the thought of us battling again made my heart race with excitement and anticipation. I felt most alive during a fight but when fighting the god of fire, I managed to feel true euphoria for the first time in my life. He was the one who was worthy of facing me, worthy of standing beside me, worthy of claiming me as his. I felt my body instinctively lean back into his, relaxing in his presence when his hand moved from my arm to my hair where it tangled itself in the wet strands. My arm fell away from my chest as he pressed his warm lips to the space between my shoulder and neck, sparking a fire inside me that blazed brighter than the sun. I gasped as the flames danced through my veins, shooting out from my shoulder down the rest of my body. There was a stinging, a gentle pain that was enough to drive me crazy “You have my blessing” he informed, moving to pull away from me, trudging through the water in the direction of the steps. I wanted to turn, to grab for him but I restrained myself, refusing to embarrass myself any more than I already had. He was dry the moment he stepped form the bath and reached for his leather skirt that was still covered in my blood, tying it around his waist before moving onto his boots “My brother is waiting” he informed me, glancing in my direction before he exited the room. I watched him go, my flesh aching for his touch. What was that feeling, that foreign emotion that I couldn’t describe nor name? I exited the pool and dried myself with the use of a piece of fabric that lay neatly folded nearby then noticed that there was a white dress laid out across a nearby table as if it had been left there for me to find. I ran my fingers through the material then began getting dressed, tugging the soft fabric onto my body. It had thin straps and went down to the floor by my feet, covering up more than what Neptune’s dress had which I was grateful for. I tugged my boots onto my feet then fled from the room, heading in the same direction Vulcan had, pausing when I noticed my own reflection in a polished bronze shield that hung from the wall, and was on display. I touched the place where he’d kissed me, noticing that there was a black marking there that hadn’t been there before. It was a simple triangle, pointing upward to my head. I rubbed at it but it wouldn’t fade nor disappear so I ultimately brushed it off and hurried down the hall, dancing around the circular bend to find a grand staircase that stretched down into a room that was filled with couches, chairs and tables stacked with various types of food. It was decorated similarly to the other rooms in the same style of portraits, vases, statues carved from marble and carvings that were engraved into the ceiling where an iron chandelier hung, small flames flickering where candles were expected to me. My eyes trailed down to where Neptune stood, conversing with Vulcan while Aurella sat in a chair nearby, legs crossed elegantly as she observed the situation like a snake, ready to strike. Malik was stood beside a hunched form that sat on a couch similar to the one that was in the bed chambers “Ryker!” I exclaimed, drawing the attention of everyone onto me at the top of the stairs. I rushed down them, taking the steps two at a time until I collapsed beside Ryker’s body, hands reaching out to touch his tired, bloody face, eyes hardly registering what was happening around him “L-Lia-?” he croaked in question. I rapidly nodded my head, hand tracing his cheek while the other gripped his thigh. Ryker leaned into my touch, his eyes closing when I whispered a low “Yes” in response to him. It was as though he could finally rest after having worried for so long, after having suffered through the fight with me. He wound his arms around me and buried his face in my shoulder, holding me close “You did great” he complimented, breathing a breath of laughter but he refused to let go of me. I gripped at the fabric of his shirt that was soaked through with blood and sweat and stared at the world beyond his shoulder “Ryk, you’re hurt” I argued with him, shaking my head from side to side in protest. Malik averted his gaze and Vulcan did the same, first being caught off guard by the clear bond that Ryker and I shared then later consumed with the fire of jealousy “I’ll be fine. I’m just-.” he paused, his voice growing weaker as if he was about to fall asleep at any given moment “Tired” he got out then was gone, dragged unconscious, finally able to rest, now that he knew that I was safe and perfectly fine. I leaned him onto the couch and ran my fingers through his hair as a weak squeaking sounded from beside me on the floor. Joe exited Ryker’s bag and scurried up my body, using my arm to reach Ryker’s chest where he sniffed at the red head’s face then looked to me with big, beady eyes consumed by worry “He’ll be alright-.” I reassured the rodent, reaching out to scratch at the top of his head, behind his ear and underneath his head. Joe squeaked happily and stood up on his hind legs, leaning into my touch “After all, he has the two of us to look after him” I reminded him to which Malik glanced down at me and nodded his head firmly in response to my sad but hopeful smile. My fingers traced their way down the side of Ryker’s face, across his jaws and to his lips. His bottom face was crusted in dried blood from where Vulcan had broken my nose during our fight and bashed in the back of my skull. Even his bottom lip was swollen from where I had bit my own, a harsh reminder that I was no longer putting myself at risk but forcing him to endure it alongside me. There was a pitcher of water on the mall table beside the couch and I quickly tore a piece of my dress and dipped it into the water, wringing it out with both hands to start dabbing at Ryker’s features “She has my blessing as promised” Vulcan announced, turning back to Neptune when he spoke. Aurella tilted her head back, lips tugging upward in amusement at the obvious annoyance in his tone as a response to how I treated Ryker. I glanced toward my shoulder and Malik did the same, inspecting the triangle shape engraved into my flesh “Now all that’s needed is for you to create chaos” the witch informed, her wrist twisting and causing a glass of scarlet wine to appear, grasped in her hand. Her crossed leg bounced up and down as her index finger tapped at the crystalline glass “And we’ll be out of your hair-.” her ivory gaze flickered over to where I was working on cleaning Ryker’s face, nails extending to tear at his shirt, removing it so that I could clean the blood that had dried above his abdomen where I’d been impaled “For good” she added, almost sinisterly when she looked back to the god of fire. He was watching me, examining the way my hand dabbed at his flesh then wrung it out, only to tear another piece of my dress and repeat the process. Somehow I was always the one being bathed after a fight and the least I could do was repay the favour by cleaning Ryker as he always scrubbed my hands free of blood “Wars don’t start in a day, nor can fires cause immediate destruction-.” Vulcan quickly interjected, his tone sharp with a hint of desperation hidden beneath his attempt at aggression. I paused, glancing up at him from my place on the stone flooring, my knees exposed from having torn at my dress as much as I had “I need time” he concluded, sparing a glance in my direction before he exited the room through a large archway that was located off to the side, opening into a separate room that was unknown to me. I tucked the stray strands of my hair back behind my ear and wrung out a piece of bloody fabric in the pitcher that now sat beside me on the floor. Malik leaned back against the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, muscles tensing as he watched the god go “What’s up with him?” my half-brother questioned out loud to no one in particular or at least I assumed it was rhetorical until he looked down at me from over his shoulder with a quirked brow. I dabbed at the corner of Ryker’s lips, sitting up on my knees to lean into his unconscious form “What makes you think, I’d know?” I answered his question with one of my own, hardly acknowledging his expectant stare while I worked, lips parted in concentration, free hand placed firmly on Ryker’s bare chest to steady myself “Peut-être parce qu'il te regardait comme ça?” his French was perfect when he spoke it, using it as a way to make our conversation a little more private despite the fact that both Aurella and Neptune could speak and understand multiple different languages including the one we were speaking “Quelque chose s'est-il passé entre vous deux?” he continued and I had to analyse his words before responding ‘Maybe because he was staring at you like that? Did something happen between you two?’ Was it any of his business to even ask questions like that? I reminded myself that he was my brother, older by a few minutes and that it was his basic instinct to take care of me “Rien ne s'est passé” I denied that anything happened between us and repeated the act of wringing out the stained piece of fabric that I was using, hands trembling as I did so when the ghost of Vulcan’s burning kiss made my body ache for him. Malik noticed the way my thighs shifted, brushing up against each other as I refused to look at him and stared down at my reflection in the dirty water of the pitcher “Lia” he sternly began, pushing his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. Usually he wouldn’t pry into my personal life, hardly caring about what I did but there was something different about that situation for him to use that type of tone with me “Il m'a embrassé” I admitted, glancing in Aurella’s direction to meet with her smug expression. Neptune on the other hand seemed unsurprised by my words but I pushed it aside and reached for the space between my neck and shoulder where the symbol lingered, where his fire claimed me “Il quoi? Et tu le laisses juste?” I felt anger boil up inside me at his abruptness, as if he owned me, speaking like I was some sort of harlot for letting a man kiss my neck once. He turned to face me, his hands falling back down to his sides. ‘He what? And you just let him?’ I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing in deep with my hand hovering in the air, clinging to the torn cloth. I was trying to calm myself before I said or did something I would later regret “Je peux embrasser qui je veux” I argued, stating that I could kiss whoever I wanted then reopening my eyes and sat back on my knees to meet my brother’s burning gaze. He didn’t scare me, nothing could scare me but his demeanour was uncalled for “Pas quand le cœur de Ryker est en jeu!” his tone of voice rose in volume, growing angry as his hand motioned to Ryker’s sleeping form. His words echoed in the back of my mind ‘Not when Ryker’s heart is at stake!’. I rose to my feet, hand gripping the piece of fabric I had been using prior “Et qu'est-ce que son cœur a à voir avec tout ça?” I demanded, my shoulders rolled back and my eyes threatening when they looked to Malik. Men would often shrink away in fear but not him, not my brother who met my challenge head on with no thought of reason or consequence, answering my question almost as quickly as it had been asked ‘And what does his heart have to do with any of this?’ “He’s in love with you, Lia” there it was, the words spoken in clear English that caused my heart to ache in my chest at how stupid Ryker could be. There was no such thing, it was unheard of for someone to ever be able to love me since it was a word that I couldn’t bring myself to believe in. Neptune stiffened when I ran my tongue along my bottom lip, glancing down at the cloth that I held in my grasp. Without so much as a single word or glance, I rushed past Malik, shoving the cloth into his chest and disappearing into the many halls of the Coliseum “Lia! Lia, wait!” he tried reaching out to me but I wouldn’t allow for him to touch me even if he was my brother by blood. Neptune shot his son a look as Aurella simply fiddled with her ring, amused by all that was going on around her “That word, to her, is like an insult” the god explained then was out of earshot as I rounded the circular corner and pressed my back against the wall, running a trembling hand across my face before I slid down the length of it and brought my knees to my chest. I knew what Ryker thought he felt toward me but I couldn’t believe that he truly did love me, that anyone could love me or that the emotion existed and if it did, it only ever brought pain and suffering to those who were foolish enough to fall into Cupid’s grasp. I had to focus on saving my parents, on fighting a war, not spend my free time arguing with Malik and flirting with a god. I was a fighter not a lover and I would die on the battle field, riddled in wounds from head to toe, giving it my all as I always did. I would one day die with adrenaline coursing through my body and a grin on my face not in a bed, old and withered, surrounded by my children and loved ones. Despite looking like her to an extent, I wasn’t my mother, I wasn’t meant to be everything she was, a mother, a wife, a loving friend. I could hardly keep the one friend I had without losing him to the poison that was love. My slid the palm of my hand along the war stone flooring, able to sense exactly where Vulcan was within the Coliseum due to the vast difference in our bodily temperatures. He was the sun and I the moon, the volcano and I the ocean, summer and I winter. We were day and night, light and dark, love and hate yet at the same time we were so alike in so many ways. We fought with all that we had, reaching the same high, placing the same passion into our kicks and punches. We were the product of war, weapons forged to fight in battles no normal mortal could win and we were both stubborn, dominant, confident, prideful. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing all the good in me manifest in his image whereas I was the evil that clouded my mind and consumed my thoughts in darkness.