Work Text:
Jax couldn’t stand to look at her and her sugary, sickly sweetness, harolded by kind words and gentle touches, soft eyes lacking any malice.
Jax hated her. He hated her words. He hated her eyes. He hated her touch. He hated her voice. He hated her.
It didn’t make sense for him to collapse in her arms. It didn’t make sense for him to rip open the seams and show emotions no being like him should have. He hated things that didn’t make sense more than anything else in the world.
So, Jax hated Ragatha more than anyone else in the world. More than anyone living in th real world, and more than anyone above ground in the circus.
And yet.
He wanted to sneak into her room and curl up under her bed until one of them was gone.
He wanted to follow her until she yelled at him to stop.
He wanted to stare at her until his eyes burned.
Jax didn’t understand. He wanted to rip out her cloth heart, tear it to pieces and sew it back up with painstaking attention.
“I hate you.” He hissed, curled into her side. His gloved hands gripped at the skirt of her dress, his eyes shut and screwed up tight.
“I know.” She whispered back, a smile in her grief-tinged voice.
Jax’s shoulders shook with sobs unrealized, but he ignored it.
He never could stand to look at himself when the tears started.