Why can't you still be blind?

Not entirely sure why I wrote this, but I remember Mag's interference with Luigi's rage, and it was the only time he ever looked anything other than scared or angry.

"Luigi stop it!"

The eldest Largo froze and stared up at the woman with the commanding voice. Nerveless fingers let the knife drop, still an inch deep into the dead coffee minions chest it slid to one side and fell to the ground, collecting dirt and grit on the bloody blade.

She looked at him reproachfully, false eyes spinning and focussing on the dead man beside him, then at Luigi's face.

He was speechless. No one else told him to stop. His father looked disgusted at him. His brother and sister ignored it as his unfortunate hobby, other victims screamed for mercy.

She did not look angry, she did not ignore him, she did not scream with that haunting voice that wove and danced and cut like silk and barbed wire through his soul. She just looked regretful, sad. Even without eyes that cried or smiled. She saw him and all she looked was sad.

And then his sister started screaming and she looked away.

His throat closed tight and his hands scrabbled for the knife, closing around the blade so that his blood mixed with the dirt and the dead. She was staring at a tiny girl. He was staring at her. He couldn't see the sadness or reproach any more. She did not look at him. He wished that she couldn't.

Goddamn her eyes! Luigi wished she were still blind.