[attr="class","spiral"]He contemplates toying with her. How luxurious it would be to rip it straight out of her throat. But, his best judgement says to double down. Embracing the right answer reeks of a profit he’s yet to realize. He needs to see what else he can stir from her. Even if it’s sappy beyond all doubt.

A light chuckle pulse from his adam’s apple, “What do you want to hear? The ‘me’ answer or the truth?”

[attr="class","spiral"]“Hm?”

He plays aloof when prodded. Most interpret Fernando’s tightlipped rhetoric as a means to avoid providing any insight. And, there’s a shred of truth to it. But sometimes, more often than not, he just likes fucking with people. Keeping them on their toes, always teetering on what he ‘could’ mean rather than what he actually means always brings a sense of self satisfaction.

It makes him both unreadable and unique.

Little does he know how much others despite him for it.

“Not always,” he continues, seemingly oblivious.

But he’ll bite. Time to entertain. Especially when confronted with such juxtaposition of ideals.

“Well, here’s two answers then: one, I like you. Short and simple. The other?”

He pauses, contemplating, before pulling her closer. His hand drops to her waist. To the point of no return. To where he pinches her to both tease and rile up his appetite.

“I really like you. Being a good lay is just a bonus.”

Wherein she sought venom he looked to extinguish with heartfelt confession made up of lies and pandering. Fernando’s no stranger to women—to people in general. While all different in their own respects, they all require the same. Affection. Love. Admiration. Longing. Being desired.

He speaks the truth of his own heart, mangled and battered, manipulated to construe a story believable enough to sink into the ocean of her soul. He wants her to feel something more. To fall for him genuinely.

It makes her more malleable that way.

“The same reason why scientist share their discoveries. Why artist publish their art. I want the world to see what I see and realize what they’ve been missing.” His smile broadens, sinister like. “There’s a bit of selfishness behind it, yes. But only because there is no greater satisfaction than finding a gem before anyone else. Knowing that it’s yours.”

A small huff breaths between his nostrils as he wrinkles his nose at her.

“Is that all your consider yourself after all this time? A lay?”

[attr="class","spiral"]“I mean, metaphorically—”

Fernando only catches himself short of falling into the pitfall right as it crumbles underneath him. He has no idea how well Lulu takes to such proclamation so he doubles back. Goes for the safe play. Always the safe play.

“Unless you’re opposed.”

It’s a challenge he hopes she never rises to meet.

[attr="class","spiral"]The whole hurdle of dealing with relationships is something Fernando foregoes altogether. To this day, his many courtships, even those persisting at the same time, has never came back to bite him in the ass. He attributes this for his knack on evading them altogether. But here, confronted, he’s unsure of how to navigate.

He’s lost at sea, drifting between the words she left unspoken.

“I’m honored you think so highly of me.” He prods at her with another pinch. “But I’m not asking for all that.”

What constitutes as that? He leaves that for her own interpretation. Best to leave her to lay out the boundaries. He wants her but not committing requires him to put in his hand as well—something he refuses.

“You are a friend. And I like you. That’s enough. I’m not here to push you into anything. But that doesn’t mean you’re not mine.”

He seals it with another peck. This time it’s only a butterfly. Cemented by affection instead of longing.

“Consider it playful possessiveness.”