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... a'er, have I ever said I liked you?!"

"Despicable, lowly, fickle villain! I'll hit you!"

The sound of punches thudded, like the beating of two young hearts. He looked at her with a mischievous smile, suddenly leaned in, and gently kissed her delicate, tempting lips, whispering tenderly, "Don't ask me why I like you, just as you shouldn't ask me why I breathe."

Yueya'er nestled into his embrace, her gaze filled with surprise and delight, her long lashes trembling slightly: ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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