[He scoffs softly, the sound low and derisive, as he lifts a hand and brushes the underside of Ross’s chin with a single knuckle. The touch is light, almost teasing, but there’s an undeniable edge to it.]
Squirm? [Sylus murmurs, his voice smooth as silk.] I’m not trying to make you squirm.
[He leans in just a fraction closer, his knuckle still resting against Ross’s chin, holding him in place with nothing more than a whisper of contact. His right red eye gleams something darker, something predatory.] I’m succeeding.
no subject
Squirm? [Sylus murmurs, his voice smooth as silk.] I’m not trying to make you squirm.
[He leans in just a fraction closer, his knuckle still resting against Ross’s chin, holding him in place with nothing more than a whisper of contact. His right red eye gleams something darker, something predatory.] I’m succeeding.