"Enough!" A sharp voice echoed from behind.
Syril paused, still holding the messed hand of the helpless adult, and turned slowly to the source of the sound.
It was Sherry.
His eyes were red, with capillaries drawing patterns in there. He squeezed the battered hand in his clutch, however, this time, it wasn't from anger… It was from recognition of his own actions.
'Did I frighten her with this display?'
'Am I a monster like them?'
'But she should be in support of me… Right?'
His thoughts were in turbulence, confused by what that sharp tone meant, confused by the expression on her face.
"Please, Syril… Stop. That's enough." Sherry's voice then softened and cracked, heavy with emotions.
"But… but… but these fools destroyed everything. They hurt you!" Syril's tone started gently before increasing pitch by another wave of anger.
