{se} my lips are full of ruby lies

Jude

I remembered I had fists today
I wash my hands and they are red like the sunsets of paradise

The lack of condemnation or frustration has the invisible spikes on Jude's shoulders retreating by the minute. Though his father had never done the same, he had suspected some kind of disapproval or irritation given the unnecessary violence he'd provoked. Unaware of the reckless driving force behind his actions - a desperate need for attention and validation - Jude can only sit puzzled and on-edge as Hadama calmly rebuilds the broken section of the bridge that his shoe had destroyed.

Maybe that's why he has the desire to test the King's boundaries, the limitations of his understanding and peace. Maybe that's why he lifts his chin like he has something to prove, like he's daring the world to take one last shot. "Showing everyone 'm not just gonna sit around quiet. If they're gonna talk about me, it's not going to be praising me, or my dad's parenting." A wild gleam comes to his hazel eyes. "Instead they'll mutter and complain and insult him for not stopping me. I'll be the example of his imperfection." And it will be glorious, and they will have to respect Jude's tenacity and strength if nothing else. Surely that will be what happens.

The question that comes after makes him hesitate. Does it matter what he wants to be? All he knows is he doesn't want to be in their shadows - but does he even believe he can crawl out from them? Right now, no. It seems too far-away a goal, so he shrugs and recedes slightly, energy dissipating. "I...don't know. Anything but them, I guess." Not hard to achieve when he has a king, a queen, and a demigod to compare to.

Am I a murderer?
Or did I just kill all my thoughts in self-defense?