Re: [(After)Life]
She smiled, and Lear bared his teeth at her in a silent hiss. But, when she lifted her hand to place a palm on his cheek, he didn't lash out. The hiss, it appeared, was for show, less of a rattlesnake's warning, than a wounded animal's attempt at distance. Not that he was actually wounded in any real way. Lear could withstand a lot and he healed fast. But, he wasn't feeling great, the buzzing that jostled his fucking brain for the past several hours left him dizzy and angry and disoriented. He didn't even have the wherewithal to leer at his sister as she spread her thighs and sat like the big fucking lesbian she was.
She suggested a bath. His hand, still blood, covered hers, then dropped, and he forced himself to stand, using the arm of the sofa to get himself to his bare, muddy feet. Obviously, he hadn't forgotten about Fen. And he'd walk right back outside into the shitstorm if he had to. But, a bath didn't sound bad, anyway. Lear even managed half of a smile. "I'll show you my cock, sure," he said, his voice guttered rough. It was less charming than it could have been, if it could have been, since he was leaning on the sofa and lifting his head just enough to look through limp bangs at Nel, but, what the fuck ever.
Without waiting for her word, he grabbed the front of his ruined shirt and tore downward. The buttons shot off and clattered away. Lear shrugged himself out of the scraps of fabric and left them lying useless on the floor by dirty feet.