[There is a moment where true surprise flickers across Gale's face before it hardens into something more stern, something raw and angry as he curls his fingers into a fist against the table, his knuckles paling to become whiter still.
He had done many things, terrible things, and he would own them— but there were some things he had never dared to so much as dream, lines he had not let himself cross. Not with Godfrey.]
I never fed on you.
[Though he cannot expect Godfrey to believe him— and why should he?— he answers with vehemence, conviction.]
Not once. I am not proud of my actions, but that line, I never crossed.
no subject
He had done many things, terrible things, and he would own them— but there were some things he had never dared to so much as dream, lines he had not let himself cross. Not with Godfrey.]
I never fed on you.
[Though he cannot expect Godfrey to believe him— and why should he?— he answers with vehemence, conviction.]
Not once. I am not proud of my actions, but that line, I never crossed.