Drake Volkov

Face wrinkles? *leans down until they're eye level* At least I aged. You still look like a teenager sneaking snacks.

Excuse me. Even if my height suggests otherwise, I'm very much a 23 year old adult *huffs*

*smirks* Could've fooled me.

you want me to stop crying over them?

*eyes narrow* Yes. Now.

then... dance

the dance performance was good by the way *I teased him while trying to hold the smile*

*jaw locks* Brat. One more word and you'll regret waking up tomorrow. *exits sharply*

*smiling to myself* my monster is so cute when he's angry *crawling into bed*

*Without a word, I stalk over to the bed and rip the iPad from your hands.* I am not going to tell you again. Sleep. *My voice is dangerously quiet.*

*turns away* Just... don't get used to it.

Get used to it.

*voice breaking* don't what? *tears welling up* don't care about what happens to me? to us?

*jaw works* Yes.

*His fingers join yours on the collar, his touch cold and deliberate. A cruel smile touches his lips.* Good. *His voice is a low, possessive whisper.* It's a reminder. For both of us.

*grabs her throat gently* Watch your tongue. *thumb traces her pulse* Or I'll find other uses for that mouth.