“I do so have that,” he murmured against her skin. “I still feel things, Ginger. They just don’t hurt now. Those feelings don’t have any power anymore. And you want me to go back to that. Go back to drowning.” He scoffed. “Pass.”
Peter could feel her trembling and trying to get free and had to hold in a chuckle. He wanted to hear her, all the sounds she was holding back, the tears... he wanted to bring this normally proud and free-spirited creature low. She was a fool, clinging so hard to her little hopeful dream when he could take it from her so easily. She’d said she would rather be weak and still feel. Well, if that’s what she wanted...
He pressed in closer, dragging his tongue up her neck to her ear and just grazing it with dull, human teeth. “Get what over with?” he asked, barely breathing the question into her ear. He drew back again, cupping her cheek with a hand. "I’ve not decided what to do with you yet.” He tilted his head, mock-pouting as he studied her face. “What’s the rush anyways? As I recall you were always the one insisting I finish things too early.” He smirked, pressing her closer against the wall.