[That's a big change of heart that's immediately suspicious. The one thing Larus stipulated in their contract for himself is that he never wanted to bite him.
This is city fuckery. It has to be.]
Come find me in the biggest park in the Up. I'm taking you home.
I have more years of understanding than you've been a vampire.
[Dorian frowns at that suggestion. Neither of them wants that, but Larus isn't right at the moment. Dorian doesn't care overly for the consequences of a vampire biting a few nameless people in the Down or Up, especially for the sake of his well-being-- but he knows Larus will wake up hating that he's done it. It's not who he wants to be, and as much of a folly as he thinks it is for a vampire to try and avoid their own nature, he wants to protect Larus from more of whatever it is that the city's done.
But now he has to figure out what to do.
Dorian starts walking in the direction of the tower. In the interest of getting a head start, his next reply doesn't come for about 7 minutes.]
Fine.
Stop whatever you're doing and meet me at the suite.
there's no point arguing something that's true, and he isn't in the mood to deal with whatever emotion dorian might be having about the fact he's spent a few days away from him tending to his own needs. plus, there's so much more to see and do than listen to his dominant try to tighten the rein on where he can and can't go. and he's already halfway across the up in the opposite direction when that second message interests him a little more than it should. ]
[He's at the doors of the tower now, and then heading to the elevator. The closer he gets to the suite and the more he considers anything he might be able to do to help fix... whatever this is, the more this feels like a reckless choice.
Not that that's anything new, or anything he hasn't managed to pull himself out of with quick thinking at the right moment.
[ but he still wants to taste him, can't get the thought out of his head since that first mouthful he'd swallowed in a dirty alley. some part of dorian is always on his mind; it just happens to be the inside of him that larus wants right now. ]
i'm not letting you cut yourself this time. it's my teeth in you or nothing.
Done. Teeth in the wrist, the neck-- consider it an open buffet.
[He's not going to let that happen.]
I trust that suffices.
[Pulling open a drawer, Dorian sifts through the various magical bits and bobs that he's managed to collect from around the city. Almost all of it's unhelpful: serums and the like, and a few oddities he was planning on investigating further in his downtime.
Frowning, he turns around and pulls open another drawer.]
we'll see how generous i'm feeling when i get there.
[ which, realistically, won't take him very long at all, but for the sake of letting dorian sweat over the details, larus takes his time. and once he steps inside the building and takes the elevator up, something in him relaxes. familiar territory, a sure thing. he's very much motivated by the thought of dorian's blood over seeing dorian, though he won't turn anything down the other has to offer at this point. ]
i hope you're ready.
[ he loiters at the end of the hall to send that message before closing the distance and letting himself inside the suite. ]
[The extra time is spent sweating, but more over what to do once Larus arrives than about the prospect of being bitten. He doesn't want it for many reasons, but at the very least he knows it won't be able to kill him. Regardless, there's a single card left in his deck, undesirable as it is, but as he finishes opening drawers and discarding options there's no other choice left. Dorian's eyes cut to the portrait room and its closed door with invisible charms webbing all around the entrance.
It'll be a gambit to try and get Larus inside and then get out without ending up trapped himself, but it's a solution that'll last if it works.
His phone buzzes in his hand and Dorian lets the messages go unacknowledged as he moves across the room to ready himself.
This kind of talk from Larus only cements for him that he's not really speaking to the man he cares about-- his closest connection in the city, and someone he wants to protect. This is what Larus doesn't want to be. Deceiving him for the sake of helping him is already an easy choice for Dorian, but this makes it simpler.
As Larus enters, Dorian's waiting at the far end of the kitchen near the portrait room, the door ever so slightly cracked behind him, his posture relaxed and arms crossed loosely over his chest.]
I was wondering how long it would take you to stop fighting yourself. [After a moment, he gestures for Larus to come closer.]
This was always going to happen, contract or not, and it should have been me before any of those people you wasted your time on.
[The words are a little more hard-edged than is ideal from an initial prickling of nerves, but he doesn't think it'll be a deterrent. They're already here.]
[ he's there and more than ready for it despite the lack of hunger that usually gnaws at just the edge of insanity. larus doesn't bother with any sort of greeting since dorian speaks the moment he's inside their shared space, following the loud echo of his heartbeat. it's a little farther from any comfortable location, but he can get them there in a matter of seconds if need be.
the expression larus wears is almost amused, a touch intrigued but also predatory. ]
Are you jealous I've tasted more of them than you? [ there had been something incredibly sweet about dorian's blood, and if he'd been thinking like his usual self, he would have thought of casimir too. but right now, all he sees is dorian, and he steps close enough to touch him. ] They're disposable, you know. It wouldn't matter if I drank them dry or broke their neck in the process. I don't have to live with them.
[ which should mean something. maybe it does, in some way, but larus ignores it in favor of leaning in close to listen to dorian's pulse. ]
[An oddly sweet thing to hear, clothed in blood and death as it is, in a perverse moment. There will always be a part of him that craves this kind of darkness and depravity, but in this case it's not worth even a moment's consideration. If Larus ends up not remembering any of this, it'll be hard to decide whether to tell him about this part or not.
There's a kind of prickling discomfort walking its way up Dorian's spine as Larus comes close, but Dorian doesn't budge. He reaches out with both hands instead, smoothing them down Larus' sides and then drawing the other man against him with hands on his hips.]
I broke my rules and yours when I agreed to let you bite me. ['It's done', his tone says. As if to further bring the point home, Dorian brings a hand up, tipping the vampire's head and taking in the expression that doesn't suit the face he's grown fond of for a few long moments, before he presses their lips together in a heated kiss.
It's a distraction, and a confusing one to wrangle with as his senses start to come alive at the touch of increasingly familiar lips, but if he can get the man to lean into it he can bring them into the portrait room.]
[ it should be a victory he savors, the way dorian sort of bends beneath him with his words and invites him in with a touch. larus meets his gaze just before they kiss, a flicker of something unknown there, but he's quickly lost to the wonderful sensation of warmth and the familiar slide of dorian's mouth against his.
he doesn't waste any time soaking it up like he would have done, fingers curling into the fine material of dorian's shirt and pushing him back a step into the wall. pinning him there, he bites at his lower lip just shy of piercing skin and urges them into a deeper kiss. he wants to taste him, sink his teeth into the sweet expanse of his inner thigh – forget the neck, the wrists – and lick at the wound until it closes like it had when he'd cut himself just so he can do it all over again. that part's strangely exciting, the smile that starts to form against dorian's lips a bit sharp.
larus already has a hand on the fastening of dorian's pants before his thoughts deviate. ]
Undress for me, [ he says, not so much a request as it is a demand. ]
Dorian draws several short, excited breaths as he's pressed up against the wall. This is as invigorating as it is terrible, and now it's moving fast. He lets Larus lay a hand on his fly, but soon after wraps a firm, challenging grip around the vampire's wrist.]
No. [He insists. And then equally firmly, adds:] I'm not getting blood on a porous floor and neither are you.
[He knocks his head in the direction of the portrait room.]
[ he doesn't know if he likes that dorian stops him. there had been the promise of blood and much more with that kiss, things he wants to take, but he's being directed towards a room – he's presently not paying attention to which one – and the frown he gives him is relatively harsh. ]
That's implying I'd waste your blood. [ but something about having so much of it everywhere is equally exciting, so larus turns his wrist to grip dorian's hand. ] Come on then.
[ relenting just enough, he pushes the door open in an attempt to pull them both inside. ]
[When there's an opening clear enough to get Larus through it, Dorian's going to yank his hand back, and then use what he's hoping is a moment's surprised advantage to give the vampire a hard and sudden shove to get him far enough over the threshold to trip the room's magics.
There's no particular sign of anything as Larus stumbles his way in, but he might feel a very slight increased pressure in the air around his body. A subtle sensation of not being welcome, and surrounded by something on all sides.
When Dorian's done, he exhales, and shakes the tension out of the hand he'd gripped Larus with.]
It's done. [There's no feeling of victory in it, either.] Don't bother trying to push out because you're not going to be able to unless I help you out myself.
[ it's just enough to catch him unaware, thrown off by the sudden change in mood, and before he can even do anything, larus knows what room he's in. there's a glance around, taking in what he can see, but he's annoyed enough that dorian had tricked him that he staggers his way to the door until he can't seem to breach whatever is keeping him from leaving the room. ]
What the hell are you doing, Dorian? [ he grits his teeth, feeling the pressure in his jaw. ] If you don't open this door, I'll tear you apart when I get out of here.
[ a pointless threat since he'd just leave and never come back. ]
[The only thing in the room is the enormous portrait, covered over by a sheet and entrapped within a clear and enchanted display case. Even the wall behind it the case is enchanted, but no one without a sensitivity to it could guess at the extensive work Grayson had done by simply looking at it or the room itself. All the room looks like is just that: a small, mostly empty room, with a single divan and the large enchanted display case inside.
Just beyond the barrier that separates him from Larus, Dorian slips his hands into his pockets. His eyebrows rise slightly when the other man threatens him, but otherwise he doesn't react.
He's still not sure exactly what or who he's dealing with here, but it's sort of Larus, so he'll start with an apology.]
Sorry about the confines, I really am. You caught me by surprise. [By being kind of insane.]
You've had enough blood to be in there comfortably for some time, I imagine --something that should normally be the case, if you ask me, but I'm not going to fight about that with a vampire that's against it. I know better. But this does give us some time to figure out what's happened.
You aren't yourself, obviously. [He gestures.] And the city's to blame.
Knowing you, you wouldn't be much happier trapped in there than you would be running around the city like a wild animal, but at least in here you aren't going to do damage that you can't undo later. I don't think you'd thank me under better circumstances, but it's the best I can do for you right now.
[That's his reasoning for trapping him.]
So, seeing as we're not going anywhere for a while, I want you to help me help you.
larus glares at him, the drop of his brow heavy as he makes a few more attempts to step forward before slipping to his knees. part of him is furious for this, reminded yet again of sun and all the times he'd managed to trap him because larus hadn't been steps ahead of him. he shouldn't have trusted dorian is what he's realizing now, curling his fingers against his thighs and staring hard at the spot in front of him. almost petulant. ]
So your solution is to keep me here and let me starve until you get answers?
[ larus scoffs, unable to help it. ]
I'm not helping you with anything. I'm fine.
[ he feels fine. he's never felt better, if he's being honest. he's well-fed and functioning more proficiently than he has in a long time. there's nothing wrong with him as far as he can tell. so why is dorian blaming the city and asking these pointless questions? is this what it's going to be like for the next several months until their contract expires?
[All Dorian does in response to being demanded to let Larus out is pull up a chair.]
You aren't going to starve. I don't know how much you remember, but I haven't seen you take much more blood than mine in the weeks that we've known each other.
My guess is that you starve yourself on a regular basis.
[There may not be much point in reasoning with this(?) Larus, but they've come this far.]
You left the suite at night two days ago. Did you go hunting directly after that?
[ this time, he is being petulant, and larus lifts his head to stare at him. part of him wants to crawl through that door and rip his pretty throat out, but it wars with the part that craves the gentleness he knows dorian is capable of giving him. ]
What else would I be doing with my time? There's plenty of people in this city that wouldn't be missed if they happened to disappear.
You're right. On both counts. And even if people do miss them, all of that fades and becomes meaningless in no time at all. [But that's something he thinks, not something Larus thinks. Larus is the one who was ready to venture right back into the Down to check on people he didn't know well after getting halfway mutilated there.
It's a strange thought to have suddenly, but Dorian finds himself wondering idly if this is somehow the portrait's fault. Has the presence of his soul in the suite acted like some kind of infection under the city's influence? He glances at it, frowning thoughtfully, before his gaze shifts back to Larus again.]
So after you went out, you don't remember meeting anyone or anything unusual happening to you?
[ he wants to say something about not caring if anyone misses them. would anyone miss the man wearing gang colors he drained and left for dead? or the woman and her partner he'd stumbled across in a blood-soaked haze of delirium? what about the couple he'd just finished when dorian had texted him? so many people that no one is ever going to think about again, and they're having this conversation.
larus follows dorian's gaze for a moment and then looks back at him without missing a beat. ]
The only unusual thing that's happened to me is this. [ there's a half-gesture at the room and dorian himself. ] Why does it matter to you anyway?
[ not that he actually wants to ask, but he is curious. ]
[ he doesn't know if he likes that answer, but it's worth a try switching tactics if he has the chance. ]
Either you still think I'm soft, or you believe there's someone who could hurt me. [ a moment, and there's a flash of fang when his lip curls. ] The only one hurting me right now is you.
[ dorian can do whatever he wants with that information. ]
[Not a good sign then. That's fine. It isn't like he was expecting this to be easy when there doesn't seem to be any real reason for Larus suddenly going cold.]
In my world we call this 'tough love', and for now you're just going to have to endure it. [He leans back in his chair, crossing his legs.]
But for the record, I don't think you're soft. I think you care. [A tragic flaw for an immortal in his eyes, and especially for a vampire.] And in a few days you're going to wake up with a hell of a remorse hangover.
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[That's a big change of heart that's immediately suspicious. The one thing Larus stipulated in their contract for himself is that he never wanted to bite him.
This is city fuckery. It has to be.]
Come find me in the biggest park in the Up. I'm taking you home.
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there's nothing for me there anyway.
[ it just feels like a prison. a little box that he has to sit neatly inside of for half the day while he starves. ]
unless you plan to make it worth the trip.
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[Dorian frowns at that suggestion. Neither of them wants that, but Larus isn't right at the moment. Dorian doesn't care overly for the consequences of a vampire biting a few nameless people in the Down or Up, especially for the sake of his well-being-- but he knows Larus will wake up hating that he's done it. It's not who he wants to be, and as much of a folly as he thinks it is for a vampire to try and avoid their own nature, he wants to protect Larus from more of whatever it is that the city's done.
But now he has to figure out what to do.
Dorian starts walking in the direction of the tower. In the interest of getting a head start, his next reply doesn't come for about 7 minutes.]
Fine.
Stop whatever you're doing and meet me at the suite.
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there's no point arguing something that's true, and he isn't in the mood to deal with whatever emotion dorian might be having about the fact he's spent a few days away from him tending to his own needs. plus, there's so much more to see and do than listen to his dominant try to tighten the rein on where he can and can't go. and he's already halfway across the up in the opposite direction when that second message interests him a little more than it should. ]
tell me what you're offering in exchange.
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Not that that's anything new, or anything he hasn't managed to pull himself out of with quick thinking at the right moment.
It's still the best move.]
What you assumed I wouldn't give you: My blood.
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[ but he still wants to taste him, can't get the thought out of his head since that first mouthful he'd swallowed in a dirty alley. some part of dorian is always on his mind; it just happens to be the inside of him that larus wants right now. ]
i'm not letting you cut yourself this time.
it's my teeth in you or nothing.
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[He's not going to let that happen.]
I trust that suffices.
[Pulling open a drawer, Dorian sifts through the various magical bits and bobs that he's managed to collect from around the city. Almost all of it's unhelpful: serums and the like, and a few oddities he was planning on investigating further in his downtime.
Frowning, he turns around and pulls open another drawer.]
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[ which, realistically, won't take him very long at all, but for the sake of letting dorian sweat over the details, larus takes his time. and once he steps inside the building and takes the elevator up, something in him relaxes. familiar territory, a sure thing. he's very much motivated by the thought of dorian's blood over seeing dorian, though he won't turn anything down the other has to offer at this point. ]
i hope you're ready.
[ he loiters at the end of the hall to send that message before closing the distance and letting himself inside the suite. ]
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It'll be a gambit to try and get Larus inside and then get out without ending up trapped himself, but it's a solution that'll last if it works.
His phone buzzes in his hand and Dorian lets the messages go unacknowledged as he moves across the room to ready himself.
This kind of talk from Larus only cements for him that he's not really speaking to the man he cares about-- his closest connection in the city, and someone he wants to protect. This is what Larus doesn't want to be. Deceiving him for the sake of helping him is already an easy choice for Dorian, but this makes it simpler.
As Larus enters, Dorian's waiting at the far end of the kitchen near the portrait room, the door ever so slightly cracked behind him, his posture relaxed and arms crossed loosely over his chest.]
I was wondering how long it would take you to stop fighting yourself. [After a moment, he gestures for Larus to come closer.]
This was always going to happen, contract or not, and it should have been me before any of those people you wasted your time on.
[The words are a little more hard-edged than is ideal from an initial prickling of nerves, but he doesn't think it'll be a deterrent. They're already here.]
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the expression larus wears is almost amused, a touch intrigued but also predatory. ]
Are you jealous I've tasted more of them than you? [ there had been something incredibly sweet about dorian's blood, and if he'd been thinking like his usual self, he would have thought of casimir too. but right now, all he sees is dorian, and he steps close enough to touch him. ] They're disposable, you know. It wouldn't matter if I drank them dry or broke their neck in the process. I don't have to live with them.
[ which should mean something. maybe it does, in some way, but larus ignores it in favor of leaning in close to listen to dorian's pulse. ]
And you have your rules.
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There's a kind of prickling discomfort walking its way up Dorian's spine as Larus comes close, but Dorian doesn't budge. He reaches out with both hands instead, smoothing them down Larus' sides and then drawing the other man against him with hands on his hips.]
I broke my rules and yours when I agreed to let you bite me. ['It's done', his tone says. As if to further bring the point home, Dorian brings a hand up, tipping the vampire's head and taking in the expression that doesn't suit the face he's grown fond of for a few long moments, before he presses their lips together in a heated kiss.
It's a distraction, and a confusing one to wrangle with as his senses start to come alive at the touch of increasingly familiar lips, but if he can get the man to lean into it he can bring them into the portrait room.]
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he doesn't waste any time soaking it up like he would have done, fingers curling into the fine material of dorian's shirt and pushing him back a step into the wall. pinning him there, he bites at his lower lip just shy of piercing skin and urges them into a deeper kiss. he wants to taste him, sink his teeth into the sweet expanse of his inner thigh – forget the neck, the wrists – and lick at the wound until it closes like it had when he'd cut himself just so he can do it all over again. that part's strangely exciting, the smile that starts to form against dorian's lips a bit sharp.
larus already has a hand on the fastening of dorian's pants before his thoughts deviate. ]
Undress for me, [ he says, not so much a request as it is a demand. ]
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Dorian draws several short, excited breaths as he's pressed up against the wall. This is as invigorating as it is terrible, and now it's moving fast. He lets Larus lay a hand on his fly, but soon after wraps a firm, challenging grip around the vampire's wrist.]
No. [He insists. And then equally firmly, adds:] I'm not getting blood on a porous floor and neither are you.
[He knocks his head in the direction of the portrait room.]
In there. There's a divan.
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That's implying I'd waste your blood. [ but something about having so much of it everywhere is equally exciting, so larus turns his wrist to grip dorian's hand. ] Come on then.
[ relenting just enough, he pushes the door open in an attempt to pull them both inside. ]
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There's no particular sign of anything as Larus stumbles his way in, but he might feel a very slight increased pressure in the air around his body. A subtle sensation of not being welcome, and surrounded by something on all sides.
When Dorian's done, he exhales, and shakes the tension out of the hand he'd gripped Larus with.]
It's done. [There's no feeling of victory in it, either.] Don't bother trying to push out because you're not going to be able to unless I help you out myself.
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What the hell are you doing, Dorian? [ he grits his teeth, feeling the pressure in his jaw. ] If you don't open this door, I'll tear you apart when I get out of here.
[ a pointless threat since he'd just leave and never come back. ]
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Just beyond the barrier that separates him from Larus, Dorian slips his hands into his pockets. His eyebrows rise slightly when the other man threatens him, but otherwise he doesn't react.
He's still not sure exactly what or who he's dealing with here, but it's sort of Larus, so he'll start with an apology.]
Sorry about the confines, I really am. You caught me by surprise. [By being kind of insane.]
You've had enough blood to be in there comfortably for some time, I imagine --something that should normally be the case, if you ask me, but I'm not going to fight about that with a vampire that's against it. I know better. But this does give us some time to figure out what's happened.
You aren't yourself, obviously. [He gestures.] And the city's to blame.
Knowing you, you wouldn't be much happier trapped in there than you would be running around the city like a wild animal, but at least in here you aren't going to do damage that you can't undo later. I don't think you'd thank me under better circumstances, but it's the best I can do for you right now.
[That's his reasoning for trapping him.]
So, seeing as we're not going anywhere for a while, I want you to help me help you.
[He frowns, leaning in slightly.] What happened?
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larus glares at him, the drop of his brow heavy as he makes a few more attempts to step forward before slipping to his knees. part of him is furious for this, reminded yet again of sun and all the times he'd managed to trap him because larus hadn't been steps ahead of him. he shouldn't have trusted dorian is what he's realizing now, curling his fingers against his thighs and staring hard at the spot in front of him. almost petulant. ]
So your solution is to keep me here and let me starve until you get answers?
[ larus scoffs, unable to help it. ]
I'm not helping you with anything. I'm fine.
[ he feels fine. he's never felt better, if he's being honest. he's well-fed and functioning more proficiently than he has in a long time. there's nothing wrong with him as far as he can tell. so why is dorian blaming the city and asking these pointless questions? is this what it's going to be like for the next several months until their contract expires?
trapped in this room for no reason? ]
So let me out. [ his tone is sharper this time. ]
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You aren't going to starve. I don't know how much you remember, but I haven't seen you take much more blood than mine in the weeks that we've known each other.
My guess is that you starve yourself on a regular basis.
[There may not be much point in reasoning with this(?) Larus, but they've come this far.]
You left the suite at night two days ago. Did you go hunting directly after that?
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[ this time, he is being petulant, and larus lifts his head to stare at him. part of him wants to crawl through that door and rip his pretty throat out, but it wars with the part that craves the gentleness he knows dorian is capable of giving him. ]
What else would I be doing with my time? There's plenty of people in this city that wouldn't be missed if they happened to disappear.
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It's a strange thought to have suddenly, but Dorian finds himself wondering idly if this is somehow the portrait's fault. Has the presence of his soul in the suite acted like some kind of infection under the city's influence? He glances at it, frowning thoughtfully, before his gaze shifts back to Larus again.]
So after you went out, you don't remember meeting anyone or anything unusual happening to you?
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larus follows dorian's gaze for a moment and then looks back at him without missing a beat. ]
The only unusual thing that's happened to me is this. [ there's a half-gesture at the room and dorian himself. ] Why does it matter to you anyway?
[ not that he actually wants to ask, but he is curious. ]
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It seems worth pushing the envelope, and it's a truth he doesn't mind offering anyway.]
Because it matters to me if you end up hurt because you can't stop yourself.
[Because some people are worth saving and remembering while the rest fall like grains of sand through an hourglass.]
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Either you still think I'm soft, or you believe there's someone who could hurt me. [ a moment, and there's a flash of fang when his lip curls. ] The only one hurting me right now is you.
[ dorian can do whatever he wants with that information. ]
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In my world we call this 'tough love', and for now you're just going to have to endure it. [He leans back in his chair, crossing his legs.]
But for the record, I don't think you're soft. I think you care. [A tragic flaw for an immortal in his eyes, and especially for a vampire.] And in a few days you're going to wake up with a hell of a remorse hangover.
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