He could. It'd be easy, god knows it wouldn't take much. Two or three seconds and it'd be over, problem solved, no more walking on eggshells around the house. No more worrying about whether or not he'd ever escalate past verbal. Waiting for the day he snaps and tries to raise a hand against any of his sisters or his mother.
It's the only solution that makes sense.
He thumbs at the edge of the blade, smearing icing along the flat of it.
"James," comes the warning voice, already an octave too high. He exhales through his nose slowly, resigned. )
no subject
He could. It'd be easy, god knows it wouldn't take much. Two or three seconds and it'd be over, problem solved, no more walking on eggshells around the house. No more worrying about whether or not he'd ever escalate past verbal. Waiting for the day he snaps and tries to raise a hand against any of his sisters or his mother.
It's the only solution that makes sense.
He thumbs at the edge of the blade, smearing icing along the flat of it.
"James," comes the warning voice, already an octave too high. He exhales through his nose slowly, resigned. )
Go to your room.
( It's a murmur.
She doesn't need to see this. )