There is something slippery about her that drives him just a little mad, the edges of his temper beginning to flare as the flames begin to claim his legs, small fires that fan against his fetlocks and rise along his cannon bones. He ignores her questions about Taiga and instead turns his red eyes toward her, studying her intently, letting the rage simmer in the back of his mind, turning hotter and hotter as moments pass.
“You want to leave me,” he says, suddenly sullen. The fire at his feet go out immediately, leaving the boy of heat cold, and his face cools, hardens, the rare glimpses of emotion locked away. He doesn’t move although there are parts of him that want to turn and run—ashamed of his sudden need for her to affirm that she would like to live with him instead—and other parts of him that want to rage against her.
Instead he draws all of that within him like a black star, his insides churning but his outside impassive.
“Fine,” he spits out, less collected than he would have liked, but the edges harsh enough that he accepts the sudden lack of emotion. “Come visit me with your mother,” the word comes out like poison as he thinks of his own mother who had ushered him to a land of trees with his siblings and then promptly abandoned him. “Whenever you feel like gifting me with your presence. How honored I will be.”
His onyx lips turn into a scowl and then he angles his head away to look purposefully to the horizon.
“You should go. You have a family and people you care about to be with. Just go.”
@[Astarielle] - moody teenager much.