You’re not going anywhere
venom burns down his throat: a sharp taste / acidic 'gainst his insides. ire’s become an ABODE to him ( such a familiar feeling , it’s almost saccharine ). sirens go off in his mind , a desperate plea to find escape. he FLINCHES: regrets and ignores , a baited breath slipping off his tongue / it’s heavy , drawn out , and shaking. glance thrown to the assassin’s lithe fingers curled 'round his wrist , he stares at it until it’s BURNING HOLES behind his eynes ( until it’s the only OFFENSIVE thing on his mind ) and so he decides: leather fingers wrap around one of hers / bending it back / satisfying BONE CRACKING sound on his ears / glance falls onto her features: ❛ that’s all i’m going to do , because we’re FRIENDS , but don’t ever touch or tell me what to do — or we’ll see just how friendly i can be. ❜
mockingxcanary: meme | accepting.
