Natasha matches the tone, fingers grazing her weapon almost absently beneath the table. “Then, following that reasoning perhaps killing me isn’t the simplest route forward.”
At that, the god began to laugh, loud and mirthful, pausing only to catch his breath. “Oh, my lovely little spider, I had no intentions of killing you, none at all. As appealing as the thought may be, ‘tis not one I shall be indulging, there is at least one creature most precious to me that would not be terribly pleased…”
Natasha raises an eyebrow, catching his meaning almost immediately. “Well, I suppose I should think him for that at least,” she mutters - not that she can promise it’ll be a particularly warming thank you. “You err though, in calling me yours. I may be the spider, but I am neither lovely, nor little. I am, however, gratified to know that the thought of my death pleases you the way yours does mine. Everything ends.”
inheritorofmemories reblogged this from silvertonguesewnlips-blog and added:
Natasha’s expression doesn’t change at the sentiment, although she acknowledges it as her own truth as well as his. With...
silvertonguesewnlips-blog reblogged this from inheritorofmemories and added:
“Ah, what beautiful mutual dislike.” And that sentiment, it seemed, was almost genuine from the god’s lips. He much...