When you were the son of evil, there was little you couldn't do, own, or kill, and yet her mortal self was an elusive trophy he could touch, but not put on his shelf. This made her rare. This made her precious. This made him...love her.

Love was worth sacrificing for, he thought as he left his room. Even if it wasn't yours. -Phury's thoughts

I do not crave this" But he needed it before he became a danger to himself and others.

When she didn't say anything more, he frowned, thinking this was the pair of them in a nutshell: Standing three feet away from each other and being separated by miles.

That human, he's a lesser waiting to happen, in my opinion--nothing less, nothing more

Wellsie frowned. "I'd like you to stay away from him, okay? He's...not right in a lot of ways. Do you know what I mean?" Actually, John wasn't so sure about that. Yeah, the guy was enough to make you think fondly of the boogeyman sometimes, but clearly he wasn't all bad.

The front door flew open, and Mary shot out of the house, jumping off the porch, not even bothering with the steps to the ground. She ran over the frost-laden grass in her bare feet and threw herself at him, grabbing on to his neck with both arms. She held him so tightly his spine cracked. She was sobbing. Bawling. Crying so hard her whole body was shaking. He didn't ask any questions, just wrapped himself around her. I'm not okay," she said hoarsely between breaths. "Rhage...I'm not okay.