Vlad lifts his eyes to meet Javert's. The iron wire around his chest tightens, marginally. There are remnants of the bond and he dare not even grasp at them.
'What good does being right do me, hmm? She is lost to me. You, are lost to me.'
He speaks of the two as if they were of equal importance to him. For what is love, if it is not given wholly, and freely.
'I had my reasons, and I do not expect you, a mere mortal, to understand them.' He places himself outside their world. He is the chess master. They are but pieces, to be moved, sacrificed, in the long game.
That he holds Javert in such high esteem, and then disregards him utterly in the next breath, is a contradiction he is comfortable with. A necessary evil.
no subject
'What good does being right do me, hmm? She is lost to me. You, are lost to me.'
He speaks of the two as if they were of equal importance to him. For what is love, if it is not given wholly, and freely.
'I had my reasons, and I do not expect you, a mere mortal, to understand them.' He places himself outside their world. He is the chess master. They are but pieces, to be moved, sacrificed, in the long game.
That he holds Javert in such high esteem, and then disregards him utterly in the next breath, is a contradiction he is comfortable with. A necessary evil.