I asked what you would call the shredder moles, Sir. Not what you'd call me. [ there's a hint of a smile in her voice, but it has a knife's edge. she would love to be trouble for him, the way he has been for her. he deserves the favor repaid. it melts away, however, as she turns back to him, head tilted in deference. the apt pupil. ] Like the Cut?
no subject