“I’m weak? Caring about someone and wanting them to like me makes me weak?” he clamped his hands down either side of the arms on don’s chair, leaning forward teethed barred before the older male while black flecks sparked up in his iris, the virus visibly apparent now as it swam below the depths, the serum keeping hold, for now.
“I fucked up, I know I did. But You’re worse, you’re so much worse. You try and hide everything, all emotions, I might be rotting on the outside but everyone can tell you’re festering away inside. You think I haven’t seen it? Those times you slip up? let the wall crack just for a second? You’re a spoilt brat Don. Word it how you want but you’re just a little kid, a little kid with too much power, acting how he thinks he supposed to, acting like he doesn’t feel, thinking he’s better then everyone around him” his voice got louder now, fingers starting to dig in the surface of the woodwork regardless of the lack of claws, the subtle sound of splintering mahogany cracking out around them.
“At least I have the fucking balls to admit I have feelings, unlike you. It doesn’t make me weak, wanting to make someone happy, wanting to make YOU happy, doesn’t make me weak!” he was screaming now, suddenly drawing his head back and cracking his forehead down sharply against Don’s revenge for the punch the other had delivered to his jaw minutes before.
“Stop acting up to this stupid persona and god damnit tell me if you like me or not!”
"What the fuck." The mafia boss hissed as pain spread through the front of his skull.One hand gripping the side of his head and the other holding onto the splintered pieces of wood that was once known as his chair's armrest."What the fuck." he repeated again,groaning quietly.Then,it was quiet,no more groaning,just the intake and outtakes of puffs of breath from both Zombie and the Don...Until the older man started chuckling.Quietly at first,eventually rising in volume and turning into a full fledged laughing fit as the Don threw his head back,a very much confusing turn in events to Zombie's eyes,whom just stared at the man with his head slightly tilted to the side.
"You just don't know when to stop." Don chuckled,this one coming out in a lower tone,dangerous and menacing,and before the younger male could retort,his head was gripped in a large leather-gloved hand and slammed down onto the large mahogany desk,a thundering boom resulting from the impact.
Hoisting Zombie's upper body further up the desk,the youngster too stunned to fight back at the moment,the mobster took his time in adjusting their positions so as to pin Zombie down on the table,leaving no room for escape or much fighting back.
The other was practically drooling on the table as he lay face down,stars swimming before his vision,barely registering the husky whisper that sounded in his head,"I think," a hand smoothed down Zombie's sides,tracing the subtle indents of his ribcage and then harshly slipping down his crotch in a firm but intentionally pain-enticing squeeze,"You're pushing your luck,Zombie." The name was spat out with much sarcasm,"I'd like to hear a reason why I shouldn't have your balls cut off right now."