❝of that, I am quite aware.❞ her gestures, fearless and reckless rest on her malicious intent. ❝Must I say, it’s my second priority next to murder. The little darlings beg to be spared after I let them. Though it’s impossible to bestow that on you, is it not?❞
"Oh don’t they all? But, must you bring them up in a time like this? — Are you trying to ruin my mood, Sweet Mira?" he asks, not really answering her question. His hand snatches her chin, and he kneads her lips with a thumb. A breath away. Skin against skin. Cold against cold. He falls silent for a while, as his golden gaze settles upon hers. "… Are you trying to figure me out?"
miranda says nothing..only a simple look into Marlowe’s eyes while he slicks his thumb over her lip. A short silence follows, until he asked something that she could answer. ❝Figure you out? Perhaps I am. Not a great deal, however. I like you in your mysterious glory. ❞