His brow furrows as he looks at me like he doesn't understand what's going on in my head, my hesitation. "Are you wondering if you should do it?"
"Of course I'm wondering if I should fucking do it," I hissed exasperatedly.
"I see." He takes another sip of the glowing ember liquid which makes me yearn for the burning liquid down my throat. "Don't bother. You don't have a choice. The only way you're getting out of this house is if l'm dead or you've been fucked thoroughly."
His lack of emotion is stark now He doesn't care about pretending anymore. About pretending he can feel, that he might understand my own emotions.
Right now, I'm not totally sure he can. I slowly slide my body to the side, getting some space from him. He's not standing between my legs, he's next to me and I feel the urgent need to move away.
But l want to understand his intentions.
"Why are you doing this?"
With a shrug, he puts the glass down on the counter. "Because I can."
