𝒄𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝒑𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 .ᐟ

lovely—eyed. death—touched. witch.

he glared into her eyes for a long moment, before releasing her to turn on his heels. “whatever. I’d say thank you, but I’m not really the gratitude type of guy. I’ll send you a little thank you card in the mail.”

lovely—eyed. death—touched. witch.

he ( knew ) he should just walk away. thank the witch and walk away. but he was such a hothead. in an instant, he slams her against the wall, arm pressing against her neck. “regardless of what you did, i think you should just walk away.”

he almost growled but, he refrained. because like it or not, she had a point. he’d be dead without her help so. . he’s pushing himself to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. “whatever.”

“because.” he brings the blood bag to his lips, easily drinking the dark liquid until it was empty. he throws it to the side, his strength slowly returning. “i am going to murder whoever it was who did this.” he looked back up at her. “and watch the namecalling.”

a low growl built in his throat — she was testing her limits knowing he couldn’t retaliate. though, he’d let it slide for saving his ass. he tries to get to his feet, slumping back down with a groan. +

he’s giving the other a look before snatching the bloodbag and bringing it to his lips. “if im such a douche, why help me? why not let me die?” he demanded lightly, brows narrowing.