[ If he thinks that's cliche, he should meet the people she used to run around with. Dramatic doesn't even begin to cover the past decade of her life, and she's seen the judgment, the heartbreak, the disgust that comes with learning about who she used to be.

She listens to him lay out the fallacy in her own actions, the nonsense of the decisions she's been making on his behalf, biting her tongue and clenching her jaw as he argues his way through what she knows is true. ]

Fine, alright? It's stupid and it's fucking selfish. Is that you wanna hear? [ She can hear the waver in her voice, the tightness in her throat. She pushes herself up to pace along the wall near the door, sucking in a breath and dragging a hand over her face. Finally, mustering up some sense of resolve, she turns back to face him. ]

I was League of Assassins. I got paid to put people down. I wasn't doing it to survive, I wasn't forced into it. It was who I was. Sometimes I think it still is.