Me after Him
The handcuffs failed, and he pointed at Hope with one of his forefingers, forming a gun with his hand right after, also using his middle finger.
Hope looked down at Castiel's hand, finding the year he was born tattooed on his fingers. She remained expressionless, her eyes falsely cold.
“If I tell you… I'll have to kill you,” he whispered.
“And would you use your fingers?” Hope had to make fun of his.
“Intelligent.” He returned to normal, laughing, convinced that “I could strangle you.”
“I thought I was dealing with a drug dealer, not a psychopath.” She smiled the same way. She was protected, was counting on it to use so much boldness to talk to this man.
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