To Corin those words seemed so empty. Sorry, but I’m not sorry wasn’t quite good enough for him to derive any significant satisfaction or appease him. Furthermore, the fact that she could identify the problem simply told him that she was just fine with how she was. If he’d have known of Yagmur’s thoughts, he’d have told him that an apology at gun point meant nothing. She was simply trying to continue living and that was it, there wasn’t much space for other interpretation.
It irked him. Things like that made him question if she was really crazy at all or if it was her own careful attempt at branding.
His cheeks visibly started to tint red, his blood boiling from the backhanded apology.
“I should have kicked your ass into the sun when I had the chance, huh?” He spoke in a simmering tone.
He didn’t care or expect her to remember something he’d said the day before, but he remembered what he said just fine enough for the both of them. His finger slid off the guard, resting on the trigger as the thought of ignoring her plea crossed his mind and lingered there, only teasing. Despite that, his finger never pulled it beyond the threshold. He felt so tired, that even his wrath started to seem subdued. His body, his entire nervous system couldn’t keep with that kind of strain forever.
“You’re a really sad human being and I can’t believe I felt pity for you once.” He admitted.
He was telling her this, not because he felt like she deserved it, but because he wanted her to know what he truly thought of her. She was low, she was pathetic, and she was regret in a lot of different ways. Her presence reminded him of that, and she needed to disappear. She said she didn’t want to die alone, but arguably being pushed outside in the snow was worse than simply being shot with two people surrounding her.
“I felt bad for you.”
She didn’t make much sense, but he couldn’t recall a time when she ever did.
“Get out.” He tilted his head, gesturing to the door.
“And don’t so much as turn back.”