[ she moves to yell again, but it's too late. the mirror flashes again, and it's that woman, muzét, again, accented in purples and blacks, crazed and murderous. the milla in the mirror raises a lance as muzét turns her back to her, yelling at someone unseen ("don't you dare interfere!")... and then, without hesitation, milla stabs that lance straight through the back of her sister, the point coming out of her chest.
"you made me do this", and the memory dies.
she smashes the mirror again. she can hear that this is affecting him, and of course it should. it's his death. she finds it pathetic that this is still affecting her, on top of his memory affecting her. it's done.
there's a small silence before she offers him a quiet: ]
... Of course you're not.
[ she thinks that maybe it's okay if it's him. it's fair if it's him, since she saw what she did, and she doesn't think he'd judge her for what she did.
but still. she continues, subdued still. ]
Sorry. [ for yelling. for you dying. that you have to see yourself die, again, and all of this is— ] I should've closed my eyes.
no subject
"you made me do this", and the memory dies.
she smashes the mirror again. she can hear that this is affecting him, and of course it should. it's his death. she finds it pathetic that this is still affecting her, on top of his memory affecting her. it's done.
there's a small silence before she offers him a quiet: ]
... Of course you're not.
[ she thinks that maybe it's okay if it's him. it's fair if it's him, since she saw what she did, and she doesn't think he'd judge her for what she did.
but still. she continues, subdued still. ]
Sorry. [ for yelling. for you dying. that you have to see yourself die, again, and all of this is— ] I should've closed my eyes.
[ yeah. that. ]