I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
When she doesn’t retreat again, his eyes darken dangerously. His lips pull into something that could almost resemble a smirk if it were not so cruel. For the barest moment in time, he thinks she might have chosen to bend to his whim. Her cutting retort draws only a grunt from him, though it may as well be a laugh. It’s as close to genuine humor as he has ever managed.
The lack of fear in her glittering gaze is alluring. Tempting, if only because it stirs a desire to see what it would take to turn those star-bright eyes from flashing defiance to willing surrender. The urge to touch is so strong that, for the briefest moment, his scarred muzzle closes the breath of space between them to find soft flesh.
Then her fucking words register. He stills, his breath deceptively stead and even, belying the sudden tension humming through his body. Slowly, he pulls back, his eyes now sharp, like the jagged edge of splintered flint, as they meet hers. If she cared to look closely enough, she would be able to see the broken edges he guarded so zealously with his anger and violence. She would see the man who didn’t believe he was worth even the small amount of care she expressed.
“Then you would be the first fucking one,” he grits out, lips lifting in a sneer as he takes a step back, putting physical distance between them even as his words do the same metaphorically. Anyone who had ever claimed to care before hadn’t done so for long. Not when he was so good at shattering whatever ill-conceived, doe-eyed adoration they managed to summon for him. "Your curiosity is wasted on me.”
@Stargaze