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Description
Anyone else sad. Imagine how I feel drawing this DX

If its hard for you to read, hear is what I wrote in the chapter when this moment was happening.

The silence was deafening as Rook moved to stand before his sister, with only the sound of the fire wood cracking under the heat. She didn’t say anything as she continued to look up at him. The smile she had was again taken over with that damn depressing look, and he wanted nothing more than to see it gone. He didn’t sit next to her; instead he slowly lowered himself on the floor with the help of the sofa’s arm. He winced when his wounds protested, but didn’t stop until he sat on the floor and rested his head upon her knees as he watched the flames dance across the logs.
Licking his dry lips he said in a hushed voice, “I’m sorry.” He felt her fingers combing his dark tresses in a soothing gesture. She whispered, “Why’d you do it Rook?” Her voice wasn’t harsh or hateful, but gentle like a breeze as she tried to understand her brother’s turmoil.
His mouth felt dry when he spoke, “I felt anger like I never felt before grow inside me, Shrimp. I was so tired of always being on the beaten end and always losing—“his voice constricted but he pushed on, “I couldn’t let them take me away from this place; from you. I couldn’t survive through it all again—not again.” He hated his weakness when his vision began to blur and threaded her fingers with his. “Everything became a blur and I saw red—I became blood thirsty for whoever threatened to destroy all that I have…And in that moment I loved the power of making that collector suffer—and I imagined that fat bastard, who fucked up our whole lives was him as I actually tried to beat them to death…I actually thought I was a fucking hero for finally beating my enemies…but then you looked at me, like you did at Bruce.” His jaw clenched tightly as his hand gripped his templates, hiding his eyes from view when he recalled the gut wrenching feeling.
He felt his sister wrap her arms around him and slightly rocked him as she shushed him. The young demon rested his head on her shoulder as he cried, “Please forgive me, Shrimp. Don’t hate me.”
“Shh, I could never hate you Rook, never,” she whispered, her grip tightening around her brother, “I was afraid—afraid you would become what you hate the most.”
‘And I don’t want to ever become that.’ He felt her embrace slack and turned to kneel before her and clasped her hands in his own. “I give you my word from this day forth Soph, I won’t become that person.”

Description
Anyone else sad. Imagine how I feel drawing this DX

If its hard for you to read, hear is what I wrote in the chapter when this moment was happening.

The silence was deafening as Rook moved to stand before his sister, with only the sound of the fire wood cracking under the heat. She didn’t say anything as she continued to look up at him. The smile she had was again taken over with that damn depressing look, and he wanted nothing more than to see it gone. He didn’t sit next to her; instead he slowly lowered himself on the floor with the help of the sofa’s arm. He winced when his wounds protested, but didn’t stop until he sat on the floor and rested his head upon her knees as he watched the flames dance across the logs.
Licking his dry lips he said in a hushed voice, “I’m sorry.” He felt her fingers combing his dark tresses in a soothing gesture. She whispered, “Why’d you do it Rook?” Her voice wasn’t harsh or hateful, but gentle like a breeze as she tried to understand her brother’s turmoil.
His mouth felt dry when he spoke, “I felt anger like I never felt before grow inside me, Shrimp. I was so tired of always being on the beaten end and always losing—“his voice constricted but he pushed on, “I couldn’t let them take me away from this place; from you. I couldn’t survive through it all again—not again.” He hated his weakness when his vision began to blur and threaded her fingers with his. “Everything became a blur and I saw red—I became blood thirsty for whoever threatened to destroy all that I have…And in that moment I loved the power of making that collector suffer—and I imagined that fat bastard, who fucked up our whole lives was him as I actually tried to beat them to death…I actually thought I was a fucking hero for finally beating my enemies…but then you looked at me, like you did at Bruce.” His jaw clenched tightly as his hand gripped his templates, hiding his eyes from view when he recalled the gut wrenching feeling.
He felt his sister wrap her arms around him and slightly rocked him as she shushed him. The young demon rested his head on her shoulder as he cried, “Please forgive me, Shrimp. Don’t hate me.”
“Shh, I could never hate you Rook, never,” she whispered, her grip tightening around her brother, “I was afraid—afraid you would become what you hate the most.”
‘And I don’t want to ever become that.’ He felt her embrace slack and turned to kneel before her and clasped her hands in his own. “I give you my word from this day forth Soph, I won’t become that person.”