I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
Her mistake had been imagining there was something more to him from the beginning. He has always been brutally honest about what he is and what he wants. Had long ago stopped seeing the point in pretending otherwise. Like the stone she imagined him, he would go on being swept down the stream for eons, living a life he never asked for.
Her words, brittle and serrated as they are, are words he recognizes as the truth. She had wanted a reaction from him, but he doubted it was laughter she’d been looking for. But that is all he has to give. Her accusations stir a long dormant humor, though the laugh that escapes his throat is harsh and cruel. It does not last long, but the words that follow are cloaked in bitter mirth. “Believe me, if I could find him and make him undo it, I fucking would.” He presses slightly closer, black eyes gleaming with an unholy light. “I’ve died a hundred goddamned times, and yet here I stand.”
Then, as the amusement and ire fades from him, he falls back, eyes deadening. He had never pretended to be something he isn’t. He certainly wouldn’t start now. She wanted to know what he had to give? Then he’d damned well tell her.
“You want to fight? Then stop squawking and fucking hit me.” His tone is hard and gravelly, unyielding in it’s brutal honesty. “You want to fuck? Shut your mouth and lift your tail.” There is no hint of seduction in his voice, but as far as he is concerned, either of those outcomes is just as good as the other. “If you want anything else, you’re barking up the wrong damned tree.” His pale features harden, the defined edges knife sharp with jaded understanding. “I told you the truth when I said you didn’t want to know me.”
@[Sabra]