[ Miguel—or Rafael, the blend hasn't been smooth—wants so bad to reach out to him. No, to just run there, scale the wall, and crawl into his arms. He hates that tone in his voice, he hates how he knows Aracha is upset by existence, and he wants to console him, in any way possible.

Half of him wants to tend to his fiancee. But that half is a whole person, shoved into a body that already had an occupant. He doesn't have the right to reach out to him anymore, and he probably... shouldn't. He has a life. Aracha probably does, too.

But... there's a fire in him that wants to see some sort of proper end to this. He won't just let this hang. And... he's full of spite, disgust, anger—and he needs to expel it. If he even can. ]

Get revenge with me.