KLAUS
As I walk to the top-floor balcony of the castle with a box of chips, raised voices reach me before I step outside to the balcony.
Zade's in one of his moods again, pacing furiously as he throws sharp words at Malachi, who is slouched against the wall, his expression carved from boredom.
Typical of him. He rarely engages unless it benefits him—sex, power, or the thrill of stirring chaos. His apathy is so deeply ingrained it's practically a personality trait.
Zade, on the other hand, thrives on provoking. He's made it his life's work to test boundaries, especially Malachi's. One moment they're allies, the next they're scheming each other's downfall—a twisted game of one-upmanship neither of them seems eager to stop.
At their core, they're both venomous—beautifully dangerous in their own right.
But snakes, all the same.
Ignoring the both of them has always been my go-to attitude whenever they start arguing.
