Oh, Hannah. Oh, poor, sweet, naive, disgustingly susceptible, little Hannah.
Ice blue eyes followed her every move. They noted each soft tremor, every single shake. The way she could hardly breathe as she acquiesced to his order was music to his ears. There was that good girl catering to those words his brother spoke. Emery would be proud had he half as brilliant a mind as Liam.
Liam saw the nostalgia flicker in her eyes. It came and went just as quickly as she blinked, but there was no denying the familiarities the knife brought back to the little rabbit. Ah, but what familiarities were they, he wondered, making a silent note to inquire about the treasures in the very near future.
Then the handle was offered to him, a gourmet dish on a silver platter.
He took it in his hand, glancing down at it almost longingly. Silence crept between them both. A swift moment passed, that familiar feeling grinding in the pit of his stomach, until finally the decision was made. Curtain. Bow. Cue standing ovation.
"Tut, tut, tut." It was Liam who cooed, the words slipping from his tongue in a silky, poisonous purr. The point of his chin raised as he watched Hannah.