double-edged words, like always, with her lips as the knife, her teeth its sharpened edges. eden watches him quietly, carefully, studying him like she's cataloguing everything into memory storage for later. the ease with which he reclines into her gold-trimmed black velvet couch, the glint of silver maneuvering between his fingers. she almost grins, there; she has no doubt something like that could kill her. most things can, really. immortal, not indestructible, invulnerable.
" you seem to keep company with them quite well, " eden says at last, her expression impassive but with the faintest sheen of amusement, though it's mostly for locke's sake. for a moment she wonders — maybe even hopes in that morbidly macabre way of hers that dances too closely within death's reach just to feel anything that isn't numbing cold — what it might feel like, if locke turned his nails onto her. she smiles evenly, settling onto the open space beside him. her legs cross at her knees and rests her elbow onto the sofa's armrest, places her chin in her hand, and peers at locke. " i think i play the masquerade nicely, don't you think? say, do you have a favorite monster? "
@ashenail / continued from [ . . . ]
