UNSETTLING THREATS

The homicidal gaze he is shooting at me, huh? Ah, I guess I went a little too far overboard with the words there. But it is the damn truth. Look him. Forget his damn promises, because this is just a cycle. He will feel better after taking a few glasses, then the pain will slap him the minute the liquid is flashed out of his body, and he will run to the bottles again. This is just pure nonsense!


"Sorry," I mumble, just so he can cease suffocating me with his eyes. His stare is making me shudder with fear. It seems like he is itching to slap some shit out of me. The truth hurts, and that is the bitter truth that he can't take.

"Your sweet mouth will get you into deep trouble if you don't watch it," he says, his voice carrying a warning tone that sends a shiver down my spine. Is he threatening me now?

"Is that a threat?" I query, unable to hide the hint of defiance in my voice. His words hang heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the uneasy peace that had settled between us.


He meets my gaze with a steely resolve, his expression unreadable as he considers his response. For a moment, I regret my question, fearing that I may have crossed a line that I shouldn't have.

But he says, "No. harmless advice. I can bear with it, but this city's residents can be very mercurial. Keep your language in check."


Yes, that is factual. I am perfectly aware of that. Despite being the most haughty beings in this country, they won't put up with anyone else's haughtiness. Their rage and pride are simply on another level. I can't even dream of finding a husband here because we can't last a day together. We will strangle each other to death.

"And you? What about you? Are you temperamental too?" I inquired out of the blue, feeling the desire to learn even the barest bit about him.

His response catches me off guard, a mixture of disbelief and indignation bubbling up inside me. "Naah, but that doesn't mean I will keep overlooking your insults. Next time, I will spank you red and sore."

I blink, trying to process his words. Did he just threaten to spank me? Darn! The absurdity of it all leaves me momentarily speechless, unsure of how to respond to such a bizarre declaration.

"Excuse me?" I sputter, my voice tinged with disbelief. "You can't just threaten to spank me, you know! That is... that is absurd!"

I avert away because, as I speak, a very disturbing picture of him spanking me is playing in my head, and I hate it and how I am reacting to that thought. No matter how I am trying to term his words offensive, a part of me can't help but feel a twinge of unease at the underlying implications of his words. There is a dangerous edge to his tone, a hint of something sweetly dark and unsettling that sends a shiver down my spine.

He meets my incredulous gaze with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, can't I?" he replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I suggest you watch your tongue, Ellie, unless you want to find out just how serious I am."

The implication hangs in the air between us, heavy with unspoken threats and unspoken promises. And unspoken feelings from my not-so-innocent self. And as I meet his gaze, a chill creeps over me, sending a shiver down my spine. Since when did I start getting aroused by such dirty gestures?

Fear and forbidden curiosity gnaw at the edges of my mind, but I refuse to back down. I may be in over my head, but I won't let him intimidate me into silence.

'So, your sweet, dirty mouth in check, or my spanking? Which one do you choose? The latter? I would love the feeling of my palm massaging your sweet ass. I will try to be gentle somehow."

Sha! See who is warning me about my mouth, huh? Shouldn't I be the one warning him?

My appetite has just been obliterated, and judging by his depressing giggling, I believe that's exactly what he wanted. I furiously sigh at him and hurl the piece I was nibbling into the box while momentarily dodging his gaze. Did I say giggle? Pinky correction, the jerk is cracking his ribs for reasons that only he and his father devil know about. The entire mansion is vibrating with the reverberations of his laughter. He is an annoying fucking psycho!

'And what's funny?" I ask angrily.

He fights to curb the laughter, but fails miserably. He all the same manages to speak in between the hysterical chuckles, "How do you get so fussed over trivial things, baby? You are flushing red. This is your fault, you know. But I like it when you go dirty. That way, I get the opportunity to imagine you in a different way and also to annoy you. Like now."

"My mouth isn't as filthy as someone else's, at least," I affirm, my anger rising rapidly. I feel like slapping the shit out of his mouth or shoveling this fork down his throat.

He quits laughing, but the smirk remains as he speaks, "You take everything so seriously that you can't even take or differentiate a joke. Come on, I am totally harmless, remember?"

Harmless, my left foot! May the devil screw his sweet, lying mouth! Fuck his ridiculous jokes! What sort of joke? Being dirty-mouthed is far from a joke.

"Hey! I was honestly kidding, alright?" He asserts when I just stare at him, dry of words.

I have a thousand and one things I want to yell at him, but I am simply not sure which one to fire first, hence my silence. I can rain a lot of shit on him, but I choose to be mute about it. Maybe next time.

"You ought to stop abusing that phrase," that is all I can manage to mumble after a while, and like the obnoxious, impolite jerk that he is, he reaches across the table to supply me with a special dessert—his pheromones.

"Am I really harmful, or is it my looks that you can't resist?"