Bexley, watching that tear-marked face shift and shift again every time she speaks, finds herself relaxing into the familiar feeling of being in control. Perfect. It’s like a high, especially after being deprived of power so long. Manipulative and horrible of her, sure, but Bexley is what she is - a hedonist, a witch, a princess-comma-viper - and any remorse she feels is entirely overwhelmed by the hot, blood tingling rush of watching Camdis writhe in her grip.
He’s smirking now. Bexley finds herself simultaneously intrigued and amused; he must think he has some kind of trick to pull off on her, and he’s going to be very disappointed. She tilts her head to one side and watches him evenly, not bothering to flutter eyelashes or smile too hard now that she know’s he’s already reeled in. Instead her face takes on a sheen of calm. Behind that, something knowing.
You love me, she says loudly in her own head, willing it into existence the way she has a hundred times before, stretching it out to him metaphysically, a hundred little tentacles, flowery green vines, saying You love me, you love me, like an enchantress weaving an everyday spell.
Tell me… Oh, he’s horrible, leaning in like that. Bexley hates that he feels comfortable enough to do so. In her utter refusal to lose any of these games, Bex doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t lean away as his lips brush her cheek - but she surely doesn’t lean into it, either, and she hopes he can read the fact that she’s entirely unfazed by his sudden boldness. Like hell she wants someone else in charge. What turned you into a siren, Pretty Bexley, and how many souls have you stolen so far?
At that, she snorts. Half derision and half real laughter, she raises her brows at him, expecting some level of insincerity to be on his face, but there isn’t, and that’s worse: “Sweetheart,” Bexley ridicules, giggling, “You can’t be serious. I’ve been this way since the day I was born, no turning, just crawled my way out of hell and got to work. I’m not much for wasting time.” She gives him a sincere look. “And, to answer your other question, it’s gone beyond counting.”
@camdis <3
