[Gabriel's first thought is that maybe fains, non-witches like this one don't really understand hate.
His second thought is that maybe witches, like him, don't really understand it. The hate Gabriel has known has been a black, cold thing, too repulsive to be brought into the bedroom. He thinks of hate and thinks of pressing the muzzle of his gun against a girl's forehead while she begged. He thinks of the hunters who hate him, and what their hate has made him do.
But maybe the hate he should be thinking of is the kind that matches love in its passion. Hate like a fire, not like ice. That sort of thing isn't uncommon at all among black witches, look at all the crimes of passion along family lines.
He doesn't process all this aloud, of course. He's a spy, not an informant, but he slides his glass closer to him and perhaps his eyes turn a shade darker as he drinks and lets it burn.]
I've wanted to fuck someone I was furious with, before. [He shares this intimacy so as not to share any of the rest.] I could have put him through a door or fucked him through it and I think it would have been just as satisfying.
[He ends that with a small smile, flicking a glance across at Eggsy like it's a question: is that what you mean?]
Is there someone still at home you like - or hate? [He fills in the blank with an answer he's almost sure won't fit.] Your mate Rox?
no subject
His second thought is that maybe witches, like him, don't really understand it. The hate Gabriel has known has been a black, cold thing, too repulsive to be brought into the bedroom. He thinks of hate and thinks of pressing the muzzle of his gun against a girl's forehead while she begged. He thinks of the hunters who hate him, and what their hate has made him do.
But maybe the hate he should be thinking of is the kind that matches love in its passion. Hate like a fire, not like ice. That sort of thing isn't uncommon at all among black witches, look at all the crimes of passion along family lines.
He doesn't process all this aloud, of course. He's a spy, not an informant, but he slides his glass closer to him and perhaps his eyes turn a shade darker as he drinks and lets it burn.]
I've wanted to fuck someone I was furious with, before. [He shares this intimacy so as not to share any of the rest.] I could have put him through a door or fucked him through it and I think it would have been just as satisfying.
[He ends that with a small smile, flicking a glance across at Eggsy like it's a question: is that what you mean?]
Is there someone still at home you like - or hate? [He fills in the blank with an answer he's almost sure won't fit.] Your mate Rox?