"Ugh, Belle," Draco retorts, rolling his eyes, "you'd know I don't care for the terrorization of foals." He smiles now, tipping his head up to look down at her. "I put them out of their misery quickly. No need to prolong the murder of the young."
Draco's never actually murdered a child (he's too lazy for it, but perhaps one day he'll have the pleasure of killing one of Belle's), but he can't help but run his mouth.
It is clear that Belle is pushing his buttons, by the way her mind clashes and whirls with boredom and insults. Draco snorts, tilting his head to the left and eyeing Belle suspiciously. He's been on to take the bait before but - but again that little taste of fatherhood stays his usually trigger-happy hand.
"Hmmm," the demon hums as Rebelle drones. That angry, devilish pulse quickens, his chest tightens - he finds himself biting his tongue in her presence once again. A coppery taste floods his mouth but this time he swallows it back, savoring the blood and easing into the sting. "Got us both right on the nose, yes," Draco says, turning his frustration into a strained but charming smile. A mention of Starsin and Litotes is like a punch to the face for the demon - he doesn't like being remind of the mother he hasn't and years and the father that rushed into his arms as if forgiveness was ready and waiting. He wants to take that hurt out on her, mostly for being the one to bring them up - but also simply because she is here.
"Shut the fuck up, Rebelle," Draco snaps, locking her gaze with his and heightening the fearful glow of his eyes. His voice is growled but not overtly angry, and the way he crowds her next is almost hauntingly slow. As if this were inevitable, or perhaps as if the infliction of suffering on others is simply his . . . nature.
It is, Draco tells himself.
"You talk a lot of talk. Why don't I just feed you to the aliens? Or better yet . . ." now he purrs, pressing closer. "I could do something truly awful. Wear you down just enough and leave you alive. That kingdom of yours won't care, either. I'm sure they'll find you deserve it."
Draco stops, tucking his chin to neck and grinning.
"I'll make sure you leave here just as meek as you find my sister to be."
Draco's never actually murdered a child (he's too lazy for it, but perhaps one day he'll have the pleasure of killing one of Belle's), but he can't help but run his mouth.
It is clear that Belle is pushing his buttons, by the way her mind clashes and whirls with boredom and insults. Draco snorts, tilting his head to the left and eyeing Belle suspiciously. He's been on to take the bait before but - but again that little taste of fatherhood stays his usually trigger-happy hand.
"Hmmm," the demon hums as Rebelle drones. That angry, devilish pulse quickens, his chest tightens - he finds himself biting his tongue in her presence once again. A coppery taste floods his mouth but this time he swallows it back, savoring the blood and easing into the sting. "Got us both right on the nose, yes," Draco says, turning his frustration into a strained but charming smile. A mention of Starsin and Litotes is like a punch to the face for the demon - he doesn't like being remind of the mother he hasn't and years and the father that rushed into his arms as if forgiveness was ready and waiting. He wants to take that hurt out on her, mostly for being the one to bring them up - but also simply because she is here.
"Shut the fuck up, Rebelle," Draco snaps, locking her gaze with his and heightening the fearful glow of his eyes. His voice is growled but not overtly angry, and the way he crowds her next is almost hauntingly slow. As if this were inevitable, or perhaps as if the infliction of suffering on others is simply his . . . nature.
It is, Draco tells himself.
"You talk a lot of talk. Why don't I just feed you to the aliens? Or better yet . . ." now he purrs, pressing closer. "I could do something truly awful. Wear you down just enough and leave you alive. That kingdom of yours won't care, either. I'm sure they'll find you deserve it."
Draco stops, tucking his chin to neck and grinning.
"I'll make sure you leave here just as meek as you find my sister to be."
@[Rebelle]
hitch a ride on my violence