"Is that supposed to scare me?" [Kurose! uwu]
He tilts his head, barely smiling—this little brat likes to look tough, doesn’t he? But that’s exactly what’s amusing about the King of this tragedy: how he stands so tough, holding his head so high (despite the fact that he’s such a frightened little mouse in the end), but inevitably he breaks—every time, a little different, but the same cracks always show through—
Yes, that’s why it’s fun.
A flippant shrug as he twirls the knife around between slim fingers; perhaps his threats have been read as too idle, or perhaps it’s just that tough facade the King wants to portray. Either way, he’ll dig deeper now, pick at those unhealed wounds until pain bleeds through into that cute, defiant face, until he can see that beautiful breakdown again—it’s a large part of what he lives for, after all.. "If you’re not scared, then what are you? Simply foolish, cold-hearted? Or do you not believe what I say?" Yellow orbs sparkle with mischief, too innocent for his words. Yes, surely he knows that their similarity is no coincidence.
"Don’t tell me you truly believe your nightmares to be nothing more…?
I, above all, know well enough that you’re not simply a fool,
my dear King.”