Who said I would get attention for it? Or be a hero? If anything, I'm a vigilante doing this in secret. Everyone will celebrate your being gone, and only I shall know why.

[Silco feels like he fits against him so well. His rotten little puzzle piece.]

[He won't argue that he enjoys it. It's a bit freeing, somehow, to mentally acknowledge that. They may have their griping games, but all pretenses have been dropped. They desire each other, obsessed.]

[His finger tickles over a scapula as he pulls him even closer, pressing a kiss against the other's ear.]

Aren't I the worst person you know?