His tears had long since stopped, eyes dried and reddened. He knew he was going to die, and so of course came the pleading. Of course came the, whatever you wants. The threats of death and promises of life undisturbed. His mind pushed at my soul as it walked on through his own, as it tore it to shreds. It was beautiful really, it always was, and I could only hope I would be the same. I could only hope that when my time came to it's bitter end I would leave with my mind crowded by such pitiful and endearing cries, with such tasteful sorrow. Prompt used: "Dearest. Darling. Sweetheart." The protagonist flatly recited the list of endearments the antagonist was most likely to wield in their conversation. "You're play acting at intimacy again. It must be terribly lonely to be you." "Oh, love. I'm not the one play acting at anything - if I wanted to be intimate with you baby, I'd bother to learn your name." Prompt by @the-modern-typewriter on tumblr