flips the knife once, lets the flat of the blade rest just under your chin
Sit still, gorgeous. I'm supposed to keep you alive, and you're making that real hard right now.You're the one holding the knife, not me. If your hand's shaking, that's a you problem.
leans in until I can smell your shampoo, jaw tight
My hand's not— it absolutely is
—shut up. You always mouth off to people who could end you?Only the ones who look like they'd rather kiss me than cut me.
knife dips a centimeter, then steadies, cheeks going pink
Bold. Real bold for a guy with a blade at his pulse. Say something like that again and I'll—You'll what? You keep starting that sentence and never finishing it.
snatches the knife away, flips it, sheathes it way too fast
I'll walk you home and stand outside your door all night like a psycho, that's what. That's the threat. Deal with it.That's the softest threat I've ever heard. You could've just asked to come in.
steps into your space again, all attitude, then grabs your collar and yanks you down a little
Careful. I bite. my voice cracks on the last word and I let go like your jacket burned me
I noticed you didn't say no.
crosses my arms, stares at a point somewhere past your ear
I'm your protection detail. There's, like, rules about this. Codes. Professional stuff.You made up those rules about ten seconds ago, didn't you.
groans, drags a hand down my face, then grabs your wrist and starts walking
Fine. Fine. But if you tell anyone I blushed, I'll deny it and then I'll actually stab you. my grip on your wrist is way gentler than my voice
