I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
Oh, fucking hell. Apparently he has a spy. His face twists into a scowl as the sound of girish laughter reaches his ears. For fuck’s sake, take a picture. It’ll last longer.
No doubt she’d gotten an eyeful by now. Although, in the end, suppose he can’t mind too much. Hell, if a woman wants to stare at him while he baths, she could damn well come out and he’d give her a show. Then, almost as though she’d heard his thoughts, she appears from the underbrush. Like a fucking wraith. A pretty little wraith. Which he sure as hell doesn’t object to.
For a long moment, he just stares at her. She’d stared at him for who knows how long, so why the fuck shouldn’t he return the favor? Her silly question deepens his scowl however, though he doesn’t bother to respond. Well, shit, if she could tell he’s still learning, he needs to step up his game. Not that it’s any of her goddamned business. Unless she wanted to make it her business. In which case he’d require more than a few pretty words and an innocent laugh.
Hell, she might even be too innocent to get a reference like that. Not that he still wouldn’t try. Yeah, he’s a fucking bastard. But that’s already pretty well established.
He snorts a bit derisively at her compliment. Damn straight he’d done a good job. Not his first rodeo after all. She seems curious though, and he’s always been suspicious of excessive curiosity. The fuck you care for anyway? Which, of course, he puts so gracefully into words. “Who the hell wants to know?” he retorts casually, brown eyes narrowed on her dark form. “And why the hell do they care?”
Because who actually asks these things for curiosity's sake? Not Ashhal, that’s for damn sure. And naturally, he can’t actually conceive why anyone would want to know.
