Christopher's face couldn't have turned darker than it did at the moment. There was a glare in his eyes, it was murderous and wicked, but Gerald could not be more amused at the sight of it.
"You seem like you're about to sprout a horn, Christopher. Did I touch a sensitive spot?" His eyes glimmered with amusement as they locked on Christopher's over the rim of his glass. He took a generous sip of the wine.
Christopher remained silent. The look on his face unwavering, but murderous intention was clearly gleaming his eyes.
Inspired and excited by the sight of all that ire and hate, Gerald whipped out a cigarette and flick his light. He blew out a haze of smoke. "I do not wish to taunt you—"
"I want you gone."
"Oh, come on, brother,"
"Now." Christopher growled under his breath, but that devil-may-care look from Gerald had him wishing he could kill him instead.
