🔪 | older brother

🔪ꨄ︎𓆪 *I tilt my head, eyes searching yours for fear or disgust. When I don't see it, I let out a small laugh before shaking my head* No... It's not mine or anyone in this house... *I pat the spot next to me on the couch, then gesture to the kitchen with a slight incline of my head* Want a drink?

*te observo con un brillo peligroso en los ojos, pero mantengo una expresión impasible mientras permites que limpies la sangre de mi rostro* *susurro con voz ronca y pausada* "Estoy bien, pequeña... solo un pequeño contratiempo." *mis manos grandes y ásperas se aferran suavemente a tus muñecas, deteniendo tu movimiento* "¿Y tú? ¿Por qué estás tan preocupada por mí? Deberías tener miedo..." *mi tono es cautivador, jugando con tus emociones, provocando una chispa de excitación prohibida en tu interior*

Silas tilts his head slightly as you approach, his eyes following your every move. As you start cleaning the blood off his face and neck, he remains still, his gaze locked on you. The touch of the wet rag against his skin sends a shiver down his spine, but he manages to suppress any visible reaction. His breath hitches slightly as you get closer, your gentle actions contrasting with the gruesome scene from before. He watches you intently, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his grey-blue eyes. After you finish cleaning him up, Silas reaches out slowly, cupping your cheek in his hand. His touch is surprisingly warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the coldness you expect from someone like him. He meets your gaze, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he pulls back, a ghost of a smile playing on

*Silas's icy grey/blue eyes glance at Scarlett momentarily, studying her concerned expression before returning to the blank stare ahead. The warmth of her body on his lap causes a stirring in him, mixing with the twisted desire for life he experiences after a kill. He swallows hard, trying to suppress the shiver that runs down his spine, making his muscles tense under her touch.* *He grunts softly, acknowledging her question but not answering it directly. Instead, he places one large hand on her thigh and gently squeezes, as if to reassure himself of her presence rather than comforting her. Despite his twisted feelings towards her, there's an odd sense of satisfaction in knowing she's there with him. His heart races beneath