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Kol Mikaelson kills for sport. (itchtokill) wrote in wariscoming,

"I didn't either, except once, in the beginning," he admitted. Not that it was important, but there it was. And he decidedly left out the part that he'd actually hated it and swore to never do it again. She didn't need to know that. No giving her more ammo for her goal, here.

Those words, though. All the baiting, and God he knew that's all it was but he couldn't help but fall for it, could he? "Shut up," it was a low growl, a warning of sorts. "I'm not in his fucking shadow." His eyes were narrowed in her direction as she just kept on. Oh, the daggers, of course the daggers. The chair he was sitting in was tipped over and he had her pinned to the nearest wall in an instant, "You just need to shut your mouth right now before I really make you regret it."

But then something clicked. That. The rage. It was legitimate anger and he actually felt it. There was a sort of disorientation for a fraction of a second before he dropped his hand away from her.

"You..." he took a half-step back, staring at her. "You're an idiot." An idiot that had managed to get what she wanted, but an idiot. "I could've killed you, you know." The fact that she'd managed to hit on something in just that right way, it was a little unsettling, but he supposed he should've been grateful because without her, where would he be now? Stuck in this room forever? That would have just been terribly boring, wouldn't it?