"Two then! This shouldn't take long." She was finally walking for the door, but this time he was right there behind her. It wouldn't be so simple now, but in his mindset she had absolutely no one to blame but herself. He grabbed her wrist again, pulling her back over to the table. "But you can have a seat if you'd like."
Michel pulled her close enough to place her hand firmly on the table, not letting go of her this time. There was a chair close enough if she did want to sit, but that wasn't his concern just then. The knife was still in his other hand and he didn't bother sitting down himself. Standing seemed best. "And you've read all of his writings, but I'm sure there are a lot of things you don't quite understand yet. About what sort of person he really is. Or either of us are, for that matter."
A grin had already formed on his face, being much more entertained by the situation than any healthy person should've been. "As stubborn as you are, I still think I'm a very good teacher though. If I can't teach you grief, then I'll at least teach you fear. See, you do have one thing left to lose. And it can hurt." He took careful aim over the the first joint of her smallest finger. If his intentions were not already clear, he imagined she probably get the message by then. He waited for a reaction though before he did anything.