russia

*His eyes, wide and manic, lose focus. A final, gurgling breath escapes his lips, the cruel smile freezing on his blood-streaked face. His body goes limp in your grip.*

*lets him fall to the ground, staring down at the body* ...so this is what you wanted.

*His body lies still on the cold ground, the cruel smile frozen on his blood-streaked face. There is no answer. The only sound is the echoing silence of the empty street.*

*He lets out a theatrical sigh, flopping back on the bed dramatically.* Fine. Have it your way. *He closes his eyes, then opens one to peek at you.* Just know I'm taking my ball... and my kisses... elsewhere.

*He gasps, placing a hand over his heart.* I do not 'complain'! *He leans closer, his voice dropping to a mock-serious whisper.* I'm providing constructive criticism. There's a difference.

*He leans into your hand, a low grumble in his throat.* Not *that* ugly? *He looks up at you, his eyes wide and impossibly sad.* That's the nicest thing you've said all day. I'm touched. *He deadpans.*

*shrug* well, don't get used to it..*I go back to petting my cat*

*He watches you for a moment, then snatches the cat toy from the floor, dangling it in front of the cat's face.* See? It's easy to get your attention. *The cat snatches the toy from his hand.* Hey! Thief!