It was a bit too late for her to try and shift gears and act all innocent. Reagan saw her for what she really was, nothing but a player in a game that had already begun. But if there was one thing Reagan got a kick out of, it was playing games, especially when they kept him entertained enough to indulge in a little banter with his partner. This moment was no different; those acidic green eyes, framed by the stains of oxidized blood, blinked lazily at her, silently conveying a message that was as clear as day: ‘Game on.’
“Understandable, sweetheart,” he drawled, circling around her like a predator sizing up its prey, making his way to the edge of the small stream she lingered by. “Sadly, my good looks tend to put off a lot of sorry bastards.” The unasked question loomed in the air: how bad had he been to earn those gruesome scars, because there was no way he came away clean. No, that would go against everything folks like her judged him for at first glance. Over the years, he had learned to wear that brutality like a badge of honor, but even he knew there was a tragedy behind those scars — a story too dark for most to fathom.
He prowled around her like a hungry beast, all languid movements and unshakeable confidence, respecting her boundary for the moment. It was amusing, really, considering what she could do if he decided to invade her space. Reagan wasn't the type to force himself on anyone, but he certainly reveled in playing the role, pushing limits just enough for them to wonder if he might commit the unthinkable.
Now, he wasn’t a good man by any stretch of the imagination, and Rina had clocked him fast for what he was, cutting through his levity and sharp smiles with the precision of a scalpel. But even a villain like him had standards, and touching someone unwillingly, or harming children? That was a one-way ticket to the worst kind of death Reagan could dream up.
He leaned down, every muscle in his hunched body flexing as he extended his neck, his tongue slithering to scoop up the cool water, feeling its chill surge through him as it slid down his throat. At Rina’s surprised exclamation, a smirk tugged at his lips as he drank his fill, before plastering on a more infuriatingly cocky expression, hiding the genuine enjoyment he felt. Can’t let her know the game was about to shift.
“Not pulling your tail this time, sweetheart.” Though the unspoken addendum, ‘though I wouldn’t mind tugging it once or twice if you’d let me,’ hung in the air. “Had the misfortune of crossing paths with their ring leader, a real piece of work named Sinister.” He turned to face her, exuding confidence as he settled on his haunches, lapping up the water trickling down his chin with casual relish. When her question pierced the air, whether rhetorical or not, Reagan tilted his head thoughtfully, as if truly considering her words. “I got nothing you’d like, sweetheart.” He shrugged with a casual nonchalance, busying himself with the ripples in the water as he awaited her response, amusement flickering in his eyes like a candle in the dark as he watched her from the peripheral of his vision.
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