"… because it's no fun if I didn't."
Clang.
The dagger slowly slipped out of Joaquin's grip, pupils dilating in fear, lungs constricting. His eyes were fixed on his hand that held the dagger previously, watching how clean cuts appeared around his every finger until his bones peeked from his flesh.
"Ahh!!!" Joaquin's scream erupted, gripping his wrist to stop the bleeding. He twist and turned on the floor, writhing in agony. The cuts in his hand were deep, but not enough to sever them to allow his body to heal.
Abel quirked a brow and fluttered his eyelashes indifferently at him. His lips were drawn into a thin line, watching Joaquin until the latter was dry heaving.
"Her screams were louder than that... but no one heard it," he whispered, eyes glinting with his expression cold.
