Frosted Fangs

Her tongue continued to lap over his red-tainted skin slowly.

She didn't react when his tongue almost flickered against hers numerous times, her eyes rising to lock with his.

Giacintos stared at him silently as her tongue laved over his skin for a few moments longer before she took a small step back.

Her tongue darted over her lips to clear them of the deep red liquid staining them. her eyes never left his as she moved.

His eyes flicker as he eases his arm down away from his face, blood smeared on his lips, running down his chin. He holds it near his heart as he stares at Giacinto, not in a judging manner, nor to search her to read for emotion. He just stares. He looks over her chestnut waves of hair, he looks over the curve of her body, he looks over the look in her eye and sees something... A reflection. A reflection of himself.

But she is not him... No she is far from him. No one is close to what he is, because he is no one. He is nothing.

Nothing but Smiley.

And he grins.

And he laughs.

And he laughs into the darkness of this cold locker.

"You interest me Miss."

Giacinto stared back at him silently.

She didn't search for emotion in his eyes; she didn't care for the result of search. What would she find if she did care. An insane glint? Something that would set off warning bells in the head of a normal person?

Probably.

"In what way do I interest you?"

Curiosity had spurred that question. She wanted to know. Not because she needed to know to judge him. But because she was curious. How did his mind work? How did he decide what was interesting?

"I see a lot of life in your dead eyes Miss~" he coos out against the cold air, the blood starting to frost up and down his arm, "I'd go into more detail but I'm afraid to admit that my vision is starting to go." His grin grows wider as the lights begin to flicker in his eyes, black speckles littering his vision.

But move, he did not. No he decided he wasn't going to faint, so he wouldn't. He'd merely move on a tangent.

Smiley's figure shifts into that of his tabby form, his fur matted in blood, his lavender eyes shimmering in the dark as he begins padding silently toward the door of the cold locker.

A lot of life?

Was that life gone by from which she had gained experience of life, or life she was yet to live where everything was a mystery?

Her eyes settle on the cat as it moved silently through the room.

"I said goodbye to you today, little cat.
Fingers caught on bones when I stroked your fur.

You slipped away so quietly
that we weren't sure that you were gone.

Little ghostcat, where are you?" Her voice was quiet, barely piercing the air as she recited lines of a butchered poem, her eyes sliding shut. She decided that she should move, but right now she was content to just lie here against the cold metal of the walls.