"I'm not the enemy here. But this makes me wonder who the real one is for you."
sentence starters // still accepting!
what a concept. to tiffany, everyone is an enemy unless proven otherwise. to someone who lives for survival, everyone is competition, everyone is someone out to destroy her. false pretenses behind a smile more fake than the idea that her heart still beats.
she swallows back the feeling of suffocation, her throat tight and her jaw set as she stares at the younger male. her fingers twitch at her sides, expression shifting and falling from kindness to that of apathy, utter indifference. there’s blood in the air, in her mouth– it’s all around her but she can’t pinpoint where. tiffany cannot look away from the male and his words, how they keep her leveled and gravitate her back to the ground.
why wouldn’t he be the enemy? isn’t the natural enemy to anything supernatural one that’s supposed to maim and tear them down? a hunter for dsem are supposed to be her worst nightmare, a pain in her side; someone aimed at taking her down, driving silver and wood right into her chest.
but tiffany isn’t afraid. he’s never given her a reason to, and he’s too small– too boyish and childlike in her eyes. a boy forced to grow up too fast.
“who do you think it is?” her voice keeps a steady monotone to match her features, dull, dead eyes staring at him as she keeps still, doesn’t move to fake her breathing. “because right this moment, i don’t think i have a clue who it is.”