damia ravin speaks fluent sarcasm (contrabandist) wrote in emillion, |
Oh, the feeling of power sitting in her palm was intoxicating, so much so that she nearly forgot herself for a moment. This kid, however old he was, clearly had a lot to learn, a lot of mistakes to make, and too many opportunities to learn from them-- provided he didn't try to rob the wrong person and ended up with broken fingers or worse.
Damia's smile didn't falter as she leaned in, hair slipping over a shoulder. "And whose fault is that, really?" Maybe he had skills, maybe. One encounter was never quite enough to tell. Even so, she had more important things to do than deal with little mice who were too old to use puppy eyes and think they'd work. (Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a Fuck it all, but he's a cute one passed through.)
She reached out, as if moving to touch him, only to flick him on the forehead. No, she wouldn't tell on him. Why ruin his fun? There was more entertainment in holding the possibility over his head, and yet-- priorities. This time, her smile curved up more on one side.
"Now get moving, Tiny."