Thread: It's All Relative (Monster Teeth and Verse)

With the few glances Ingram stole for himself, sure not to send off something that seemed bothered or stressed, he watched Steve's back as the door eclipsed it. Inevitably, it was because the seat was spoken for, and again occupied. Oh, well, he'd done his best to get his friend a date. It wasn't good for her to be pent up, and quite frankly, everyone should get to do what got their blood rushing. He was no exception. The tangled web he fancied himself the spider in was just another thing in his own life that he did to feel satisfied. His needs were just -- a little more intricate than others. Harder to obtain, but - he'd bet - more gratifying. It was a strange way to justify it, if that was what he was doing, but a thought he often reverted back to when he examined how his desires met up with his believes. After all, the things he did were the least possible suffering he could inflict on the world in order to reach his goal. He would call it mercy. And by that mercy Steven was gone, not passed, with fun encounter waiting for him in the future, thanks to this deviant's willingness to play a role in a suit that wasn't exactly his fit. Her pretty eyes rolled as his comment, and he smirked in response. He tasted some of the chicken, surprise to have it. That's what was so fun with Lexi, despite his ability to read people she could always, in some way, show him something he hadn't seen. He lifted the fork and looked at her as she spoke. He let her see that he was amused. Fucked up? he asked as he twitched his eyebrows once, teasing, despite the darkness in his snowy eyes. There was a red line in his chicken. All the better. Ingram bit into it and slid it over his teeth to let it rest against his cheek as he unsheathed the fork from between his lips. I like that. He shuffled the meat to be clutched between molars, it's fate of becoming smaller bits, saturated with saliva starting. Watching her eat was far more entertaining. He'd kissed those lips once, when they were trying to stay upright, after a party she had dragged him to. He'd been able to see through the fumes, but decided he wanted it. Every friendship should have its tests. Now those lips were handling food. He could understand why drawing attention to a glistening mouth would be such effective diversion. Primitive but profoundly eye catching. She increased her allure by spicing the insult. It was almost as if she knew, and spoke her mind under the veil that his question had lent her. If only that was possible at this juncture. Right now his actions were protected by their incompletion and thereby highly unlikely to be detected. Her intuition was sharp though. He shouldn't make assumptions. So, in your dark mind, Morrer, you could invent darker things than killing people with their hopes and dreams? he challenged, making short work of the piece he was chewing on before swallowing it. He would love to dive into that skull of hers and dig out what evil she could conjure if she wanted to. In the end, he would see it. Everyone relents their shell at the edge of the fire. He tried not to think about it, that moment when she'd know and he'd revel in her knowledge. It was simply too distant, and the thought would be painful longing rather than anticipation. Until then, these small things were all he had. He tried the fries. Good but not with the trail of blood the chicken had. He drank more of his coffee. Odd, maybe, to drink this to their meals. Another remnant from when life had been stressful in different ways, when they were students. He did so regress, every time they spoke. Maybe not quite enough, no. This death you speak of he started, wiping his mouth and setting his knife down, gesturing at her casually with his fork as if to dig out his own point from the air. It was nothing so innocent, of course. Truly, he was a predator of her kind, a creature that broke bread with its prey, pointing the sharp end of a utensil used to skewer things at her. The broadest part of the steel caught glitter from the surroundings, depicting the room in valved, tilted distortion. would you care to expand for me what you mean? He cut the fillet with the side of his fork and brought it to his mouth quickly. The chief had done a horrible job cooking this, much to Ingram's delight. He knew of the risk of eating like this, but the danger was endlessly small compared to the pleasure it provided. How long since he'd had blood on his tongue in a public place? Would she see the intensity of his eyes. Would she mistake the effects of his rushing blood for something else? She wouldn't be wrong, he supposed. If he'd ever try to seduce her, he'd imagine it would be with macabre topics.