"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—" Catherine's words trailed, as she dropped to the ground and began to gather up the shattered pieces.
"Stop that," Angel rose to her feet, and walked over to her. "You'll hurt yourself."
"I have to. I shouldn't be destroying your things. I'm so so—ouch!" One of the pieces pierced into her thumb, and she started to bleed.
Ivar jumped to his feet before he could fully think, and ran to her.
With a very strong grip, he dragged her up and spun her to face him.
"What is your deal?" He asked, his hands digging into her shoulders.
"Have you lost your mind, Var? She's clearly hurting," Angel said in disbelief of his attitude.
"Oh I've never been of a more sane mind. And who cares if she's bleeding? It's not even a deep cut. What is deep, is the plates slipping out of her hands at the mention of Alexei Arseny. So tell us, do you know him?" He asked, his grip tightening.
Her lips began to quiver. "You're– hur-ting me," she stuttered.
