Howard's begging is like a glass of water after a long, hot day.
"Gladly," he says, stepping backwards, building space between himself and the knife. He's surprised to find that something in his mind catches, however, a quiet begging in his own voice, and that begging says --
-- don't let him have the knife don't let him have the knife don't let him have the knife --
His limbs grow cold and his heart rolls up in his throat because, oh, Aunamee is a passenger on a sinking ship, and now he's giving up his lifeboat to the boy who wishes to drown him. Yet he doesn't let himself stop, his feet taking him further and further away from Howard, the blade, salvation.
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"Gladly," he says, stepping backwards, building space between himself and the knife. He's surprised to find that something in his mind catches, however, a quiet begging in his own voice, and that begging says --
-- don't let him have the knife don't let him have the knife don't let him have the knife --
His limbs grow cold and his heart rolls up in his throat because, oh, Aunamee is a passenger on a sinking ship, and now he's giving up his lifeboat to the boy who wishes to drown him. Yet he doesn't let himself stop, his feet taking him further and further away from Howard, the blade, salvation.
"Until we meet again. Howard."