Punching, shooting with a pistol. Sometimes I make monsters that breathe fucking fire, [kavinsky shrugs. he has an ego the size of the fucking moon, but he there's a nonchalance to the way he talks about killing. he believes to have his own domain of knowledge, but it's exactly the opposite of nico's. whether or not you die yourself, he genuinely does believe he's something of an expert with that, as much as anyone can be.

responsibility to others, that part is new. caring about whether or not the wills and vexes and nicos of the world die or not, and die well or not, and by whose hand. that part is new.]

You're just trying to find the easy way out because you don't want the people you care about get hurt and fucking die. That's why you say you'd rather die yourself. But there is no easy way out of that. No one great gesture that ends all of tragedy for all time. That's a cute idea. [and the last lock of hair falls loose, drifting with gravity.] But staying here, making those tough shit decisions, living with all the ass you done or didn't do or could do, that's where your courage is at, sweetheart. Especially if it's the harder fucking thing, for you.

[kavinsky puts down the scissors. pulls at nico's shoulders, bidding him to turn so they can look at different angles in the mirror.]

Hey, baby. You look kind of hot.