“Why do you insult me, when I give nothing but kindness to you?” The charged smile evaporated from his features, and he relaxed his grip on Rakitin’s coat. “To compare what I do to a fetish… you disgust me.”
Dmitry shook his head, and laughter caught in his throat.
“You’re the one who doesn’t understand, and you never will. You, with your fancy words and lifeless insults. You go around picking up broken pieces but you’ll never understand what pleasure there is in destruction. Not even if I showed you…”
At that moment, he wanted to strangle the life from the pathologist, but his hands remained still, one limp at his side, one resting against Rakitin’s raised arm.
“And you’ll never understand what I am, what I do, or what I am becoming. You never should have asked.” Dmitry's tone was even and calm, and it surprised him.
He looked down at the gun between them, but lingered close through an uneasy silence.
Somewhere, a dog barked. An engine rumbled to life in the distance.
He was aware that a peculiar sadness was leaching into him, like the blue shadows that remained in the wake of an extinguished fire. Only little embers remained, dancing just beyond his periphery vision.
Finally, his attention flicked back to Polya and he smiled, very slightly. “You know… you’re warm, and you smell nice.”
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-01-17 12:09 am (UTC)Dmitry shook his head, and laughter caught in his throat.
“You’re the one who doesn’t understand, and you never will. You, with your fancy words and lifeless insults. You go around picking up broken pieces but you’ll never understand what pleasure there is in destruction. Not even if I showed you…”
At that moment, he wanted to strangle the life from the pathologist, but his hands remained still, one limp at his side, one resting against Rakitin’s raised arm.
“And you’ll never understand what I am, what I do, or what I am becoming. You never should have asked.” Dmitry's tone was even and calm, and it surprised him.
He looked down at the gun between them, but lingered close through an uneasy silence.
Somewhere, a dog barked. An engine rumbled to life in the distance.
He was aware that a peculiar sadness was leaching into him, like the blue shadows that remained in the wake of an extinguished fire. Only little embers remained, dancing just beyond his periphery vision.
Finally, his attention flicked back to Polya and he smiled, very slightly. “You know… you’re warm, and you smell nice.”