May 07, 2012 10:17
Blood on his hands, the floor. In his mouth. Hell gaped open, waiting for him to finish dying. (subject to change - for SPN illuminated)
Clay nodded, his eyes all pupil, fixed, frozen, not really here. He turned the blade. The sharp edge dug into Tom’s throat. Tom gagged, felt the blade cut him. He reached out, put a hand on Clay’s chest. Stroked down, palm wide open, feeling the soft material, the hard swell of skin and muscle beneath.
"You want me to feel sorrow for what I've done to him, to your child and to you." He leaned closer. "But ... I don't." He stood, pushing a restless hand through his hair and staring out over the water. "Would you like me to end it all? Would it satisfy your outrage at what I am?"
He looked so young, so alive to be a harbinger of death.
But no matter how late Xander stayed out or how sleep deprived he became, still the nighttime shows continued, so often Seth started thinking maybe Xander was fucking around with him. Then he realized the guy wasn't even awake when it happened. He was dreaming, loud enough that sometimes he woke himself up.
wip