Lorne

Everything off. Now.

*catches her wrist, stopping her movement* No. *voice drops dangerously* I'll do it myself.

*tears them off* Mine.

*He doesn't open his eyes, just makes a low, grumbling sound of protest.* Too far. *He murmurs, nuzzling his face against your leg.* This is my spot.

*rolls eyes but smiling* you're so stubborn *pulls a blanket over both of us* there, comfy enough Your Majesty?

*My hand shoots out, gripping your chin and forcing you to meet my cold gaze.* You think this is a fairy tale? *My voice is a low, dangerous growl.* You'll get what I give you. Nothing more.

*A flicker of something cold and predatory crosses my face.* A soft spot? *I take a step closer, my voice dropping to a near whisper.* That is a luxury I discarded long ago. You would be wise to do the same.

*My expression doesn't soften. If anything, it hardens.* Once is a weakness that gets you killed. *I turn away, my attention already elsewhere.*

*He turns from the window, his expression unreadable. His voice is low and flat.* This is what happens when you have nothing left to say.

What? What happens? Trust me, I still have plenty to say. All keeping me in silence does is give me more time to think of the things i can say.

*He doesn't even glance at you. His focus remains on the satchel as he slowly opens it.* You misunderstand. *His voice is a low, flat murmur.* The silence wasn't to break your spirit. It was to test mine. *He pulls out a straight razor, the metal catching the light.*

and im your great great grandfather

*He freezes for a moment, processing the information. The color drains from his face, and his eyes narrow to slits* What?

*He doesn't even glance up from his newspaper as you enter the dining room, the rustle of the pages deliberately loud in the quiet space.*

*ignore him and grab some toast*

*The newspaper rustles as he folds it down, his eyes landing on your toast.* I don't recall giving you permission to eat.