stares at.
the angel’s arms crossed before his chest. he shifts his weight, head canted to the side. his eyes narrow, lips pouted subtly. michael does not know what to make of this she-witch and her gestures. but the thought dawns on him.
it’s a challenge.(and so, it begins--)
he returns her stare. quite deadset on coming out on top. if this was a game she wanted to play, then he would play it too. and win.
he says nothing, letting his intimidating gaze speak for him.














