I want to make you suffer.
The thought is poignant and intrusive, malicious and unsavory as she plucks it from his mind for her own. Her reaction, however, is that of interest - curiosity - and her expressive brows rise slightly while the gold of her chin tips upwards just so. She doesn’t voice his particular thought to him, keeping it to herself this time. Perhaps one day she will learn which thoughts to keep secret and which to use for her own advantage, but for now she is young and everything is fueled by impulse.
When that fantastical and terrible smile graces the interesting pattern of his lips she feels her stomach flip. A riveting feeling, one that she savors as the seconds tick by. She could feel every muscle in her being tensing, something like adrenaline beginning to pulse in her veins. He felt dangerous and, by association, she felt dangerous as well. It was a glorious feeling, this tiptoeing between fear but unable to swallow pride, and she cannot stop herself from indulging all the more.
He calls her a pretty thing and if she had been older she might have recognized the term of endearment isn’t exactly said in a way that is complimenting. But she is pretty so she doesn’t feel the need to tell him that he is correct, but only continues to watch him with those large golden eyes, all lit up with the crackle of the flames beneath her. His thoughts are delicious, despicable and ones that she is sure her father would not want her to hear. It delights her all the more to hear, even if it is distracting her from the very-real threat that is before her and the very-real way he will act on those thoughts. He is already so unlike any other man she’s encountered, she cannot help but linger - test him, encourage him - just to find out what will happen.
All the while, the fire at her hooves no longer dance - they are still and barely moving, as if the wind around them does not affect the flames. His question causes her to tilt her head, the firelight matching her movement and shifting closer to him, burning brighter but still stagnant - for now.
“Oh, so we are playing a game.” Her voice lilts as if she is asking a question, but she certainly is not. At the sound of her voice, she allows whatever is flammable beneath their hooves to begin to ignite from the flames by her hooves - little sparks of dry twigs and leaves crackling, fueled by her. “I don’t really like games all that much.” Not ones that aren’t controlled by her, anyway. They’re no fun, especially when she already knows the answers.
She blinks at him innocently, feigning thoughtfulness over his question but lacking the want to truly mull it over. The question bores her, because she finds that the thinly veiled threat beneath it is obvious, but he seemed quite excited about his answer so she decides he will play his game, for his sake. “It’s probably whatever it is you’re being very clever about hiding from me.”
Sunlight grins.
sunlight
@[Vadar]
she is asking for it