I take another swing, just to shut him up, but before he can stagger away, I grab him by the front of the shirt. On some kind of fucked up impulse, I press my lips to his, half expecting to get bitten or punched in the fucking face for my troubles.
"Depends on what you want," I sneer when I pull back, "You keep fuckin' with me, you're not gonna like what you get."
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(no subject)
Date: 2012-06-25 03:01 am (UTC)"Depends on what you want," I sneer when I pull back, "You keep fuckin' with me, you're not gonna like what you get."