He cannot lie to himself. Tea or no tea - the answer to his question felt like it could burn a hole through Zamasu’s gaze alone.
“It should come as little surprise that I am a jealous God.”
Zamasu’s lips were pressed tightly together for a moment - and he had to wonder about what kind of enjoyment, exactly, his partner derived from stirring up such vile emotions from him. Was it the sheer sensation of watching him react that was so amusing? Was it how Black wished to keep him aware of his power?
The teacup seemed to shudder, quite nearly spilling from the force of Zamasu’s personal disturbance alone. His double had tapped into a vein - and it was going to be difficult to keep everything from bleeding out of it.
What do they have over you that I do not?
What do you need them for?
They’re ugly. They’re wretched. They’re like animals. They don’t understand you like I do - they don’t know you like we know ourselves -
looking at them and look at me!
But he doesn’t say anything like that. He retains just enough stability to not completely lose all of his senses at the slightest provocation.
“I only want you to keep your focus. Keep playing games with these mortals the way you do and they won’t take us seriously. Food is for eating, not playing with.”
Zamasu informs him, his silver eyes glinting like the edge of a knife.
“Unless you’re trying to start a fight with me as well.”
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