“Humans,” he says with disgust in his voice, “are such weak, naive, worthless creatures.”
I raise my eyes to the sky and sigh theatrically. I’m irritaded by his disrespectful tone and the signature smirk that betrays his belief in his own power and predominance.
“You think you know everything about the surrounding world,” he continues, “while your knowledge is useless. There are so many things out there that you have no idea about and that your poor little brains could never process.”
If he thinks I’m gonna be impressed with this pretentious monologue, then he is about to find out how wrong he is.
“Done with your lecture?” I ask, rolling my eyes. Not the reaction he expected. “You’re such a damn hypocrite!”
“What?” He seems surprised. Good. Very good.
“You speak of the mankind with such loathing but in fact, whether you want to admit it or not, you are a part of this world now.”
He leans against the wall across from me in a relaxed manner. He acts as if my words are meaningless to him, although I do notice a slight shift in his expression. That gives me the condifence to go on:
“Look at you in your precious leather jacket and the beloved shoes you always wear. Why would someone who constantly scorns people for their shallowness pay so much attention to their own appearance? You refuse to have anything to do with humans but you’ve lived here long enough to adapt to our life. You’re no better than us.”
Silence falls. I can feel his eyes piercing a hole in my body. I wait a couple of seconds for him to say something but when he doesn’t, I turn around and intend to walk away.
However, I do know him well enough not to think he would just let me have the last word. Before I even manage to take one step, he gets to me and spins me around, forcing me to look at him. The emotionless mask is gone from his face. He’s angry and I can’t help but feel a tiny bit satisfied.
“You’re playing with fire,” he says, his voice low and harsh. His eyes seem darker than ever. “It’s a dangerous game.”
“I’m not scared,” I say and mean it. Something tells me he’s not the monster that he creates himself to be. “By the way, anger is an emotion. Which proves you’re more human than you realize.”
He lets go of my arm but doesn’t break the eye contact.
“What makes you think you have me all figured out?”
This time I smirk.
“Oh, I don’t. I honestly don’t think you have yourself figured out either.”
Inspired by one of this week’s InMon prompts. I have not done this in ages and getting back to blogging is a struggle, but it feels good! Feel free to share your thoughts with me!
Enjoy your Sunday, everyone!