[his nose wrinkles at the insult, but he doesn't rise to the bait- it was never about cowardice. He suspects it would find how he committed his actual murder distasteful: with luring words, a welcoming bed and a blade from behind.]

Most people aren't interested in fights they can't win.

[still, he doesn't try and run. He just... stares. Her eyes, rimmed with too much white, that rabid hunger. He's never understood the phrase "like looking in a mirror" because his own reflection has always been foreign to him.

But he gets it now. The adrenaline from his attack is still running hot in his blood but that's not what makes his heart start kicking into overdrive. It's not attraction. At least not like he would have for a man. Or like most men would have for a woman. How could it be, when she's neither of those things? Instead it's something like... elation. Euphoria.

Is this what the so-called ugly duckling felt when it first saw a swan?

He had coveted his lacking humanity for so long- how twisted to find out he could have tossed it aside completely now that it's long too late! The irony is like blood in his mouth, and he licks his teeth without thinking, not even realizing his lips have twisted into a rictus grin.]

... though I think... walking away isn't happening anymore, is it?