[ Unflinching, Silco dragged his gaze up. ] That's more like the man I knew. [ That anger was familiar, too. Once, they'd shared that same righteous fury, directed it at the same things, and then their paths forked and Silco followed his all the way to the end. He couldn't afford to go back, or maybe he was just too proud. Either way, they became people the other couldn't recognize, except in moments like this. ]

Red? Hm. [ In contrast to that barely contained rage, Silco was calm as he plucked a carnation off the table and studied it. It was too soft, too full, and Silco was starved and steel. He tossed it aside. ] You're right. [ He scoffed. ]

I did let someone make a decision for me. Once. [ His look was pointed. Snatching up a rose, he gripped it until the thorns bit into his fingers, visions of silt and sorrow, betrayal and bile, water and fury filling his mind. Silco was no stranger to those memories but detested their rearing their head now. Still, he pressed that bloodied rose into this ghost's hands and pushed past him. ] Never again.