It was justice. Not a cruel mockery of it. Not a murder, of someone who didn't deserve it.
[His voice is still rough, even though he's stopped crying. He scrubs his hands over his face again, and then back through his hair, clasping his fingers behind his neck for a moment and then sitting fully upright.]
Sorry. Sorry, I'm just... angry with myself for being complacent.
no subject
[His voice is still rough, even though he's stopped crying. He scrubs his hands over his face again, and then back through his hair, clasping his fingers behind his neck for a moment and then sitting fully upright.]
Sorry. Sorry, I'm just... angry with myself for being complacent.