11-19-2009, 02:45 PM
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“Again, you assume things,” he smirked, honestly amused at the attempts to spark his anger with open jabs at his masculinity. “No, I’m something much more sinister than any man or boy, if you haven’t already realized,” he continued, sneer brushing across his lips. Samael Lykoi was more than any mere mortal, locked in a futile struggle against death only to ultimately suffer eternal damnation without any hope of salvation. He was the Prince of Fear, a demon born from hellfire and flame to wreak havoc on this world. Insignificant insults would do nothing to bruise his ego nor arise ire from the monster—he was far more controlled and confident in himself than to fall victim to such petty insults. “Earned?” he laughed, crimson eyes flashing wickedly in the darkness. “Oh, and here I thought you were some whore throwing herself at me without any ulterior motives or desires,” he continued, voice filled with mirth. “I guess I was wrong.” His hand found her wrist, briefly holding it in place above his thigh as he crimson eyes met green. “What do you want?” he asked simply, coldly. |