#whatever the hell teia & viago have going on got to me alright

[vigilskeep]

the only kind of rook who could truly recognise the ridiculousness of this: playing house, with caterina dellamorte’s grandson, the one they call the demon. he makes you a coffee, like it’s nothing. you drink it, like it’s nothing, meeting his eyes because you both know how absurd it is, how foolish you’ve become, blindly drinking what another assassin gives you. is this trust? could it ever be, between people like you? the others chatter around you, oblivious. it’s good coffee. the only poison in it is this: it tastes like home

i said i would be less likely to romance lucanis while playing a fellow crow but now my brain is romanticising it