(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-28 11:01 pm (UTC)
god_of_hellfire: (seriously don't)
[It's unnerving, knowing that anyone can track him down. There's an itch under his skin at the constant risk of surveillance. When it's too bad, he doesn't sleep more than twenty minutes for days, until his heart starts beating too fast and his body can't take any more. He'd much rather be fighting back.

It's not unlike the sort of itch telepaths give him. That sensation of being watched, of every thought being open for someone else's critique. He doesn't get as jumpy about it as a lot of others, but that's mostly because that's wasted energy.

When the limo rolls up, he can't help but arch a brow over the tops of his shades. A brow that lifts fractionally further as the window rolls down, and despite himself, his lips pull into a smirk.

He'd had a soft spot for the Frost girls ages ago. It's the cheekiness, the tone that says that the listener gets to decide whether they're being insulted or not, because the girls just don't care. He liked that sort of sass, the bit of fire no one could stomp out.

One hand rakes through his shaggy hair automatically, before he pushes away from the wall.] Driving a limo through the slums. Bit ostentatious, don't you think?

[But he's teasing, biting down on that manic surge inside of him that recognizes an oasis when he sees one.]
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