I’m not an artist I’m a fucking work of art
Gods, it was pathetic. All of this - the way she just kept talking, the sour taste of fear in her thoughts, the way she fluttered from begging to bribery in moments. He stood silent and unresponsive as she draped herself against him, and it was in that slow moment that he considered the alternative to easy. The advantage to having an Eloise, to having that kind of useful talent on board. It was why he had stuck with her to begin with.
”No one would believe you,” he said slowly, casually, the blade pressed flat against her pretty cheek. ”And if a word ever passed your lips besides, I’ll make you wish you’d been left in the Fingers. D’you understand?”
”No one would believe you,” he said slowly, casually, the blade pressed flat against her pretty cheek. ”And if a word ever passed your lips besides, I’ll make you wish you’d been left in the Fingers. D’you understand?”
