You're not as good of a liar as you think you are.
[And as he speaks, his voice deepens, darkens, taking on a low, resonant growl that no human voice could. As he says it, he lets darkness pool back into his eyes, showing off the impenetrable inkiness of them with his lantern.
He's tired, but not so tired he can't make a point. He's not the boy all of the time and the gift sometimes any longer. He is the gift, and the gift is him. He wants her to see--see that he hadn't gone anywhere, that he could've scared the piss out of her anytime he'd wanted to.]
I'm right here. You might have it in your blood, but I control it.
[And he won't have anyone remind him of his lack of it, especially not some girl who doesn't know what she's talking about and has to rely on some archaic weapon to do her fighting for her.]
no subject
You're not as good of a liar as you think you are.
[And as he speaks, his voice deepens, darkens, taking on a low, resonant growl that no human voice could. As he says it, he lets darkness pool back into his eyes, showing off the impenetrable inkiness of them with his lantern.
He's tired, but not so tired he can't make a point. He's not the boy all of the time and the gift sometimes any longer. He is the gift, and the gift is him. He wants her to see--see that he hadn't gone anywhere, that he could've scared the piss out of her anytime he'd wanted to.]
I'm right here. You might have it in your blood, but I control it.
[And he won't have anyone remind him of his lack of it, especially not some girl who doesn't know what she's talking about and has to rely on some archaic weapon to do her fighting for her.]