He doesn't even get to the point where the words can form, in its place is another of those gasps, like it's yanked out of his throat before anything else escapes. Another little crack in that armor that is his control, but he swallows it back with tight-fisted grip, his fingers seeking weak spots that don't exist. There are no injuries to poke and prod at, more like dull scratches against his skin.
He'd invited him in, hadn't he? Asked him to hurry up? Could he say that he wasn't dancing with the monster under his skin, if he hadn't given as much as he'd gotten? Crushed up against the chair, he hadn't stopped him, when he bit down and ripped his shirt to tatters. Could he say that he hadn't asked for it when he was sprawled beneath him biting β kissing? β him back, and threatening to sink his teeth into his lip?
It was too late well before this, wasn't it? ]
Should?
[ He reached up to thread his fingers through that fringe of hair again, before he tugged it back forcefully to look him in the eyes. It gives him a good look at Silco, with his scar exposed and stringy, his lips bitten, his normally too-pale skin flushed. If he has any control left, it's hanging on by a thread. ]
You didn't strike me as the type to be all talk, are you?
coughs probably... the rest...
He doesn't even get to the point where the words can form, in its place is another of those gasps, like it's yanked out of his throat before anything else escapes. Another little crack in that armor that is his control, but he swallows it back with tight-fisted grip, his fingers seeking weak spots that don't exist. There are no injuries to poke and prod at, more like dull scratches against his skin.
He'd invited him in, hadn't he? Asked him to hurry up? Could he say that he wasn't dancing with the monster under his skin, if he hadn't given as much as he'd gotten? Crushed up against the chair, he hadn't stopped him, when he bit down and ripped his shirt to tatters. Could he say that he hadn't asked for it when he was sprawled beneath him biting β kissing? β him back, and threatening to sink his teeth into his lip?
It was too late well before this, wasn't it? ]
Should?
[ He reached up to thread his fingers through that fringe of hair again, before he tugged it back forcefully to look him in the eyes. It gives him a good look at Silco, with his scar exposed and stringy, his lips bitten, his normally too-pale skin flushed. If he has any control left, it's hanging on by a thread. ]
You didn't strike me as the type to be all talk, are you?