I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
Hell and damnation, but this weather has him in a black mood. No doubt the kid had noticed. Seriously. If she hadn’t, well, then she was really fucking thick. Which is a laugh and half, especially if he’d known from exactly whose loins she had sprung. Of course, he’s never claimed to the the cleverest bulb in the box. Or whatever the fuck that colloquial phrase was supposed be be. Shit yeah, look at those smarts.
Scowling fiercely, Ashhal glares at the little brat as she tries to make herself seem all big and badass with her clever comebacks. Mudpie. Well, yeah, duh. Shithead. They’re all goddamned mudpies in this fucking weather. His eyes narrow as she mutters something under her breath about child bodies.
Didn’t he know it.
But fuck, did that sound familiar or what? He steps closer, peering at her through narrowed eyes as that scowl twists his lips. Not that he could actually tell if she was his kid. Who the fuck actually knows? He sure as hell hadn’t bothered to keep track. And frankly, there is simply no diplomatic way to ask. Like, hey, kid, who’s your daddy?
Heh. Heheh.
No, gross, stop it Ashhal. He’s got some questionable damned morals but not that fucking questionable. Still, valid question. Of course, if it is him, what self-respecting female would actually tell her kid she slept with a guy like him? ‘Yeah, your pop’s great kid! Probably insulted me while banging me, but hey, he’s sexy as shit!’ Oops.
Instead of traveling down that twisted rabbit hole, he snaps upright, mouth curling from scowl to smirk. “Watch yourself, kid,” he quips with abrupt amusement before one wing flips out. Scooping it through a particularly juicy mud puddle, he flings it right at her. And unfortunately for the kid, he’s got some damned fine aim.
