[ He drinks it in as it all plays out before him. Until she is alone, soaked and shivering, as quiet as she can be. Prey for something new to him, something uniquely sharp and hungry and terrible.
The experience winds down into the rhythm of her prayer. It's funny: he can now perfectly understand Mandarin and Sanskrit, apparently, but he doesn't have the first idea what she's saying. The gist of it, though. That he Knows.
As the story fades— and the compulsion with it— Jon looks down at her with the bone-deep warmth of satisfaction written across his face. He knows that he had been distantly dizzy with hunger before this, weak and irritable and frazzled with a familiar gnawing exhaustion. That is gone now; he feels thrumming with life and power. He feels incredible.
He says, softly: ]
Statement ends.
[ There is some guilt in it. He feels it rising. But it is so distant, somehow. ]
Thank you. You told it very well. I'm sorry it was painful. [ He's not, though. But perhaps he wishes he was. ]
cw continued enjoyment of tasty tasty suffering
The experience winds down into the rhythm of her prayer. It's funny: he can now perfectly understand Mandarin and Sanskrit, apparently, but he doesn't have the first idea what she's saying. The gist of it, though. That he Knows.
As the story fades— and the compulsion with it— Jon looks down at her with the bone-deep warmth of satisfaction written across his face. He knows that he had been distantly dizzy with hunger before this, weak and irritable and frazzled with a familiar gnawing exhaustion. That is gone now; he feels thrumming with life and power. He feels incredible.
He says, softly: ]
Statement ends.
[ There is some guilt in it. He feels it rising. But it is so distant, somehow. ]
Thank you. You told it very well. I'm sorry it was painful. [ He's not, though. But perhaps he wishes he was. ]