Aden didn't answer immediately. He couldn't lie, not when she was pressed against him, and not when the metallic coldness of his skin was likely leaching the warmth right out of her.
He looked down at his marble-white hand buried in her hair. The contrast was sickening; his fingers looked like they belonged to a statue in a mausoleum, not a living boy.
"...I'm not," Aden responded quietly. "But I've got it under control, I promise."
The guilt he had painstakingly tried to surpress hammered against him as he felt Lorelei stiffen in his grip.
His eyes turned conflicted, but there was nothing he could possibly say to erase her doubts. After all, even he couldn't guarantee that the Entity wouldn't choose to go on a killing spree when they would be met with another impossible battle.
