His voice was a hiss through gritted teeth, anger and agony in equal measure.
When his gaze turned back to lock with Cazador's again, the fear and doubt in it was buried under burning malice. Still lingering, but hidden-- just as it always was.
As much as he knew his master delighted in crushing such fragile hopes, he didn't say it because he believed it. When his only other option was broken resignation, he chose to struggle, however futile.
"... I'm not playing your sick little games anymore. You can't make me."
"No..."
The spawn shook his head, averting his eyes for a moment to deprive Cazador the satisfaction of seeing the uncertainty in them.
"You won't have them," He spat defiantly.
// my cup of iced coffee is melting and condensing atop my bookshelf in the other room but alas i am afflicted by feline binding magicks of the highest caliber
@0FWATERDEEP "Frankly, everyone ought to ๐ข๐ต ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ต know how to mend a stitch."
Pale fingers feel the hem of Gale's tunic, idly rubbing the velvet between his thumb and index.
"... But I suppose you just had your ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ do that for you, hm?"
@0FWATERDEEP "As for the needlework, well... it's fairly simple. In and out, in and out-- I'm already quite familiar with the concept~"
He rises back to his feet with a teasing chuckle, quite pleased with himself for managing to squeeze an innuendo into the conversation.