“Who do you think you are talking to, brat? Just because I am your sister’s fiancé does not mean that I will let you pass after interceding us all the time. Remember where I am, and remember where you are.”
Right now, the staircase is not just for intersection at all ─ the top, where Vallénce is standing at, with me just one step below, and the bottom, where Altore is currently at. The two exchange glares and threat through silence air, fighting for the dominance that they both know who will win at the end. Their eyes glow crimson and darkness of ink eventually occupy the scleras. The eye contact is unbreakable, too sharp like fangs. It is after a while, when Altore finds himself struggling to keep his eyes open wide, that he slowly bows down and admit defeats.
This is not about a stare-
