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But Victor didn’t want to run while Eli was busy trying to fly.
The moments that define lives aren’t always obvious. They don’t always scream LEDGE, and nine times out of ten there’s no rope to duck under, no line to cross, no blood pact, no official letter on fancy paper. They aren’t always protracted, heavy with meaning. Between one sip and the next, Victor made the biggest mistake of his life, and it was made of nothing more than one line. Three small words. “I’ll go first.”
It perplexed him, how someone about to play God could pray to Him, but it clearly didn’t bother his friend.
Eli, who believed in God and had a monster inside just like Victor, but knew how to hide it better.
Victor Vale was not a fucking sidekick.
“I’m not the one holding a gun.”
Beneath the drawing ran a single sentence: I made a friend.
Plenty of humans were monstrous, and plenty of monsters knew how to play at being human.
“When no one understands, that’s usually a good sign that you’re wrong.”
