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A bit of powerplay, hope you don’t mind; if you want her to break away, there’s one deep scar on the side of his ribcage that she could agitate, ^=^ And oops, I keep forgetting to leave out colours, since he’s colourblind.
500+
Those black eyes held her. They watched the conflict that seemed to pass over the girl, and yet it was a quiet, timid confliction that he saw and felt. She knew what it was that was within her, and yet she was presented with a more currently tangible option. He presented it to her, and it could wash away what her tears could not. It could wash everything away—morals, emotions, and life. Those things...they were simply the delusions of mortals. The purpose of life was to produce young and die. Die. In the end, all things died, and Life was simply another control. What was the purpose of life? There was none, and so each creature could create their own. It was simply causality. The Korean had cut his own path, and he had found the darkness to be most efficient. He no longer remembered the light, nor believed that he had ever been a part of that path. No. It had never been that way. And now, in the dark, he could show life that it was not required. The Darkness did not require life. And through Cwmfen, he could bypass that purposelessness of life to create eternity. He sneered inwardly. And this girl, who was similar to his daughter, could be shown the darkness. Could be shown the emptiness. Could be corrupted.
But she, as he knew his daughter would, denied him. The dark waters of his empty soul grew dangerously still. The air grew still. The shadows grew silent, no longer whispering to him. Those black, fathomless orbs simply watched her, impassive and unpredictable. That single, uttered ‘no’ changed the situation. It changed his hunger, made those jaws hunger for her life. But the man was still as he watched her. He was without anger and without irritation. He was empty, filled only by that sinister intent and dark curiosity. The change was made manifest through the air and physically by the disappearance of that curled smile. But there was a sudden quiet sound, a mirthless grating in the air as two opposing stones might produce: laughter. Those black orbs flickered with something treacherous as he pierced those lighter eyes. And those jaws parted—but there was silence. And that silence persisted. But then: “But the Darkness is ready for you.”
Suddenly, the male moved, those movements eerily fluid as that black form cut through the air. And his movements were not awkward nor even aggressive. They were made with precision and with control and with celerity. He pushed her to the hard floor, the stool insignificant as it was knocked aside. As they hit the ground, his hands slid up her form to grab her wrists, pinning her down. He deftly parted her legs, pushing his knee between them and holding them down by placing his knees upon her thighs. There was a quiet growl that was emitted from his throat, his nose brushing against the pulse in her neck. He wanted to breathe in her fear, for it was that fear, not the girl, that excited him. And he waited for those initial moments, allowing anticipation to heighten and allowing the dark to wrap about her before he would allow her to embrace him.