His heart was racing, his breaths deliberate to avoid being labored. No matter how perfectly statuesque he kept himself and how much control he exerted over his body, he was unable to prevent those physiological responses to her being. Phonos closed his eyes as she trailed off, trying to focus and to clear his mind. It didn't help. Even without seeing or touching her, he could feel her presence in front of him. It almost hurt him, an ache he could not begin to understand.
Opening his eyes again, a mere few seconds after she finished speaking in real time, he continued to stare at her. He was at war, part of him wanting to cave to that powerful human desire and all the pleasure that went with it, the other part insisting that he keep his wits and not descend into the madness of humanity.
"Yes," he agreed finally, though his voice continued to sound strained. "I do not desire to argue with you or to endure your questions or accusations about my humanity and emotions."
And yet, as he said these things, he leaned slowly forward as if he might kiss her, instead bringing his lips to brush her ear. The whisper came with a primal desire he could not entirely hide: "I am not capable of what you want me to be."
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Opening his eyes again, a mere few seconds after she finished speaking in real time, he continued to stare at her. He was at war, part of him wanting to cave to that powerful human desire and all the pleasure that went with it, the other part insisting that he keep his wits and not descend into the madness of humanity.
"Yes," he agreed finally, though his voice continued to sound strained. "I do not desire to argue with you or to endure your questions or accusations about my humanity and emotions."
And yet, as he said these things, he leaned slowly forward as if he might kiss her, instead bringing his lips to brush her ear. The whisper came with a primal desire he could not entirely hide: "I am not capable of what you want me to be."