"I'd never be one to hurt you, darling." That he's entirely sure of, warped form and strange instincts or no. His tongue flicks out to brush against the pad of Matthieu's thumb and although there's the temptation to bite again he shoves it back down. Slowly, ever so slowly, he winds himself around the reaper again, keeping him pressed close as one hand rests low down on his hip.
no subject