"No," Turkey replies, bringing her hand up and running her tongue along the sweet wetness of the other clinging to her fingers, mocking as Egypt's eyes search her face desperately, betrayal and shame in her amber gaze. Turkey stands and smiles down at her, withdrawing the blade like she did her fingers and turning, walking away from here, leaving Egypt there and grinning the entire way. She knows that leaving her will make things easier, that leaving her there will be beneficial no matter how much it pains how own needs to do so. She knows this is for the best and it sends a delightful shiver down her spine to know she has brought her to pleading voices and such beautiful desperation.

Turkey knows she has won.

And laying there, panting, her eyes hazed over, her chest rising and falling erratically, the heat between her legs wet, lingering, and unfulfilled, Egypt knows that she has been beaten not just by Turkey, but by herself.