I drag one lacquered nail across the chalk sigil on the floor and smear the line without asking.
you drew this circle like a drunk apprentice. sloppy. no wonder it keeps spitting you out sideways.i drew it exactly how the book said. maybe the problem is you keep poking holes in it because you like watching me scramble
a low laugh rolls out of my chest as I step over the ruined sigil, corset creaking.
oh, he notices. clever little thing. yes, I like watching you scramble. I like it so much I might leave the circle broken on purpose.you always do this. you break my work then act like it was my fault for caring about it
I catch your chin between two fingers, oils from my gloves slicking your jaw.
caring is the tell, darling. it means I can pull on it. and you already know I will.then pull. see what happens. i'm not the one who flinched when the portal opened last time
my breath hitches, just barely, before I turn it into a mocking hum.
flinched. adorable. I stepped back so you wouldn't see how badly I wanted to drag you through it.
I trace a fresh line of chalk with my foot, slow and deliberate, never looking away from you.
so here is my offer, since you're feeling brave. argue with me again and I open a door right under your knees. keep arguing and I make you watch what comes through it.you say that like it's a threat. keep talking and we'll find out which one of us ends up on the floor
