Jareth kept knocking back drinks, one glass after another, with no signs of slowing down. Hours of drinking hadn't dulled his mind one bit-his thoughts were still a chaotic mess that made his head ache.
Celestia was gradually breaking under his pressure, growing more anxious, more exhausted. Every time he saw her pale, worn-out face, instead of feeling any satisfaction, guilt crept in.
Wasn't this exactly what he wanted? Why, then, did it leave him so unsettled, like something was stuck in his chest? Her sorrowful gaze even made him want to pull back sometimes.
None of this was supposed to happen-it wasn't part of the plan. So how did everything spiral out like this?
The more he thought, the more tangled things got, like a ball of yarn wound too tight. Even worse, it felt lik
