A Playground in London

he lughs humourlessly, shaking his head. 'its not a gift.'

'Amaya thought it was.' he added quietly.

'wellshe doesnt anymore, does she?'

'We all do. You're just being an idiot.'

'No, im not!' He sighed. 'Bryn, just leave it.'

going to tkd
byeeeeee

ic 'I won't leave it, you're my brother.'

He clenched his fist around the grass by his feet


bye!!

'Come on, you must've realised by now that i'm stubborn, especially when it comes to family.'

'Yeah, i know you are. but im stubborn as well.'

'So why are you? ... to be honest, you're being a bit of an idiot. All you're doing is making yourself miserable.'

'Missery in the short term doesnt mean ill be sad forever. going back there, talking to any of you....it will just not let everything heal.'

'So because of my sister you're just going to give everthing up? leave your sister behind?'

he didnt answer, ripping up pieces of grass, a scowl on his face.

He sat in silence, patient as ever. Death had made his temper almost unflappable, or so he thought anyway.

'You will look afterKrystal. she doesnt need me.'

'She doesn't need me, she needs you in particular. She grew up with you, not me.'

'She didnt grow p with me completely though, did she? She left me before... now she knows how it feels.'

'Don't be so god-damn petty.' he added with a snort, rolling his white eyes. 'She left you because she thought she was going to die. You let her go.'

He laughs quieltly. 'You only know some tings about my siter, Bryn. dont tink for a moment that she is innocent of anything.

'And neither are you or i! Stop galloping around on your high horse, someone will easily shoot it down.'

He snorts, standning up. 'You know what? im done. Tell amaya...' his eyes softeen slightly, showing the pain he was masking. 'Tell her im still here for her.' He starts walking away.

'She's not the one you need to be here for..' he murmured gently, voice tinged with sadness. Bryn made no move to stop Tomas, he never did.

He pulled up the hood on his coat (chav) and kicked his foot in the mud as he went.

He didn't know how he got there, or why he was there, but he took it. He sat down on a bench and buried his head in his hands. He needed to think of a way to get out of the mess he was in now.

There was no way he was going to go through with killing his wife. As much as he despised her recent choices he didn't think she deserved to die. Especially by his hand.

A hooded figure sat next to Death. When the figure spoke it was with a guy's voice that sounded roughly around Death's age-

Death Dolohov. An honor to officially meet you.