Great. She was going to be difficult, wasn’t she?
”No. You can refuse my offer but you cannot say I am mistaken for giving it.”
He frowned again. What? Was she for real? He didn’t have friends, dammit. Or well… There was Luster, come to think of it. She might count as a -well, yeah ok. Luster was a friend. He’d protect her from anything, cared if she was happy, would do what he could to help her. That went for Leliana too, though, but.. Friend? It definitely felt bigger than that. Friend wasn’t enough. And yet was too much. Was that possible? And he didn't even want to think about Diz. Dammit, this was getting confusing. And certainly not helping him figure shit out. God, he was so messed up.
Whatever. He just didn’t have friends.
And clearly she was going to have to learn it the hard way.
He smiled slowly, a familiar darkness spreading through his chest and glittering in his eyes as he stepped forward. She wasn't mistaken, hm? Oh, but I think you are, he purred smoothly. Her scent filled him as he breathed in, stepped in, felt the heat from her body tease at his mouth as he reached toward her cheek. Lingered there, his gaze leisurely tracing along her. So close and yet not touching, focusing so intently on that sensation of warmth barely reaching for him and the soft curves of her face, that melted-chocolatey color topped with the whipped cream of her silky-smooth hair. Delicious.
He flashed a smile before slowly drawing his mouth to that perfectly soft tissue beside her jaw. Mmm, one of his favorite places. He took a deep breath of self-torture, still holding himself from touching her, from soiling her flawless coat with the blood of his treacherous armor.
Want to be a friend, do you? He forced himself away from that temptation of her neck, drifted his attention to the hair he’d dye pink if he buried his nose in it, to the graceful slope of her nape, the curve of a bare shoulder. To those pretty wings of hers, a living fairytale. Know how I met my last friend? he asked sweetly, softly, methodically making a slow progression around her, sharp eyes taking in every detail with just enough space between them to keep his ruddy blood off her.
I took a chunk out of her, ripped her flesh from her body and spilled her blood at my feet. Just.. He paused at her opposite shoulder, at the side of her neck that was naked of her milky hair, and so very slowly, gently pressed his nose to the muscle there. Here. Dark red painted her from around the plate of bone that covered his face like a protective mask, and he teased it around in a swirling little pattern. An artist, was he, see? Diz would appreciate it; she loved the taste of him.
He trailed an artfully calligraphic smear to her jaw, pinched so softly with his teeth before he pulled away enough to peer into her eyes with a warm smile. Want that, do you? he asked low, sickly sweet.
Want to be my friend?
I'm a wanted man, I got blood on my hands
Do you understand? I'm a wanted man
