Uh huh. [ He shoves Beecher's face back (a little less hard than he'd shoved on his hand and chest, you're welcome), and pulls his shirt back down again, wiping blood off his hand on the fabric. ]
You stab my cock, and I rip out your goddamn throat with my teeth, how's that?
[ An empty threat — there's a hex on him stopping things like that. Not that he'll ever be saying it! ]
no subject
You stab my cock, and I rip out your goddamn throat with my teeth, how's that?
[ An empty threat — there's a hex on him stopping things like that. Not that he'll ever be saying it! ]