"Come any closer, Isadora, and I can't guarantee you'll leave here alive."
Isadora halted her steps instantly as he pinned her down with a stern gaze. The pressure in the air dropped and it became harder to breathe properly. It was a clear message that he didn't want her any more close.
However, having those dilated, unfocused silver eyes on her she knew he wasn't well. He was already breaking in a cold sweat, his chest rising and falling more heavily, his golden brown skin was dull and his lips pale.
He'd clearly lost too much blood.
"Y-You're bleeding…" she said softly, leveling her eyes to the stained floor. 'How long has he been like this?'
"I know," he replied, bringing the pipe to his lips and sipping from it, this time the smoke curled from his nose.
"I-I need to heal you."
He chuckled softly. "Do that love and you'll regret it…" He tilted his head to the side. "The only thing keeping me from slitting your throat open and dismembering you… is this wound."
