[The words sink in slowly, more slowly than they should have because there are so few of them, but the weight of their implication is palpable. Thomas blinks, once. Twice. Three times. And as the words sink in, he moves, faster than a human being, faster than anything human-shaped had a right to move.
In the moment between heartbeats, he goes from standing out of arm's reach of Molly to pinning her against the wall of one of the derelict buildings. The air around him is cold, and there is a pale, luminous sheen to his skin. His hand is at Molly's throat in an iron grip, and silver gleams in his eyes, cold and angry.]
no subject
In the moment between heartbeats, he goes from standing out of arm's reach of Molly to pinning her against the wall of one of the derelict buildings. The air around him is cold, and there is a pale, luminous sheen to his skin. His hand is at Molly's throat in an iron grip, and silver gleams in his eyes, cold and angry.]
You. Did. What.