Just To Watch Him Die. | John & Stanley
He reached through the bars, flicking his ashes onto the ground before pulling his hand back and taking another drag, all the while keeping his gaze focused on the other man. His eyes are emotionless, empty. John’s spent what feels like lifetimes hiding emotion when he needs to.
He always needs to around Stanley.
“Do ya think this is a game, then? Is tha’ what you’re goin’ for here? Because ya know I love to play, Darling, but the pawns, they all have to be legal, see?” he commented darkly. ”So who do you ‘ave doin’ your dirty work for you now then?”
Ashes, ashes well all fall down.
The gun clicks in his mouth and he smells the smoke and knows how well he’s been played. How skillfully. How artistically. How dire this game of theirs is and how small yet intrinsically important a piece he truly is in the magus’ game.
“I wouldn’t be fun if I was legal.” He’d learned. How love and hate lived inside of one another, how to twist words and reality at the feet of the master. A slick grin that shimmers like oil acrossed the only drinking well in town. “I wouldn’t be having fun if it was legal.”