Behind the Blue Doors

To him, her voice was so gentle. She spoke in a voice so quiet, barely above a hushed whisper, yet every word she uttered was perfectly clear. Most of all, sincere. And all because of it, he wanted to scream, "...don't pity me, Cordelia."



"Why do you think I pity you?"



"Isn't it obvious?" He scoffed, eyes remaining closed, "You don't love me, Cordelia." He spat bitterly, not that it was possible to disguise the sheer...disgust...he felt. It was evident in the way that tears built up in the corners of his eyes, how pained he really was. Cordelia, however, remained still. Only after a few moments, she finally countered,



"Then... what about you?"