Bole smiled in return, a twisted grin, "Yes. Pity."
The lack of substance to Roth was disappointing to say the least. Bole craved to know what he smelt like, what he tasted like, the feel of his heartbeat - any heartbeat - under his fingertips, the warmth of his blood... He did little to hide the desire from his expression.
"Do people really die in their sleep? What a waste of a perfectly good murder," Bole wondered aloud, circling around Roth and examining him. He might not be able to touch him, but this was still as close as he'd gotten to another human in months. He was going to savour everything about the other man.
"This must be frustrating," Bole said as he completed his circle and stopped back in front of Roth, "You're so... impotent-" An ugly little giggle bubbled up in his chest, "Tell you what. When I slice open McEwen's face, I'll let you watch!"