He is not fool enough to believe he had injured her with his words. No, there is far more to her than that. She reeks of the same deception and intrigue he favors, and Darkling would be remiss if he did not explore this further. There is that likeness calling to like, and he knows as he watches her that Pangea has changed little in his absence.
The kingdom has long drawn a certain sort of creature. They are both cut from the same cloth, and he would be a fool not to recognize it. Darkling is many things, but a fool is not among them.
The primate preens beneath her approval, uncaring that it is a skeptical sort of praise. Darkling’s black eyes laugh, though his lips do not move. No one truly cares for his friends. But then, he rarely gives them a reason to - not when he is as likely to command them to torment as to fawn. Desire might like the creature clinging to his neck, but would she like it as much clinging to her own?
No, he thinks. No she wouldn’t.
The thought sends a shiver down his spine.
“How else am I to say your name?” he asks slowly, wicked smile toying with his lips as his black eyes gleam in the darkness. He steps closer, softly adding, “perhaps you prefer it on a moan.”
He is close enough now that he can practically feel the way she draws out his name raking across his skin. His expression turns to something far darker, though his amusement does not fade. “Pangea is in my blood and bones,” he replies, his voice low, as though he would seduce her with those words. “I suppose that makes me a thing of dust and suffocating heat.”
you're burning up the sky, you're a constellation
I think that I could die for this revelation
@Desire