Damon had issued a challenge, and he was aware of it. He had been there before, on the receiving end of the game. He had given in, but it had cost a lot, burnt into his brain. It would take a lot to bring that down again. Walls were thick with barbed wire and ice - so he said. Could Alex punch his way through? It had been done before, but he shouldn't be overconfident. If he had to chase too long, he'd lose interest.
He wasn't going to stay right there, just standing. He walked to the bed, sitting next to those narrow hips. It was an invitation, just calling to him. He considered the question, putting a finger on the moth. "It's a moth. It's not quite as colorful as a butterfly, not as feminine, dirtier, fiercer. It isn't afraid to get down in the dirt instead of just flitting off." Close? "What is it to you?" Damon liked a brain as well as a body. The ability to think was as important as looking inviting on a bed.