Oh, yes. They certainly will. Little do they know... [ His fingers trail along his arm, up it, little spindly spider-fingers. ] that I have you right in my clutches. Is it so bad to disappear like that?

[ His chuckle is low in his throat, almost a scoff. Vergilius certainly thought he was, didn't he? Well, he'll indulge him in that, won't he? He's certainly vile enough to catch his attention, certainly the type that would kill men without a second thought. If Silco asked him to, as well.

Surely, he was terrible. Awful. To look at him like that, say things like he did, like there was something buried in the mud to discover and pull out.

Maybe it's foolish — it's still foolish, it always would be, he knows the price of trust, of intimacy — but still... his thoughts are circling like water in a drain, coming back around from that old fear, back around to the fact that he had him boxed in, pulling him closer, pressing kisses against his skin.

It makes him feel indulgent in foolishness. In keeping him around, seeing that look from him again. ]

Oh, it's such a high bar. [ He says, with his head dipping, to scrape teeth and a brush of his tongue against his neck. ] I suppose if you're going to spend time indulging this old criminal, you must be.