moordred-fangirl

A tilt of his head, a small smirk; all too familiar to me.     "So, you have another problem with how I grant your wishes?" He asks, lounging back in the ratty armchair, slender fingers raising a cigarette to his lips. I watch in silence as he takes a drag, exhaling a curling plume of smoke into the air of my apartment.     "Or do you have another wish you need granted?"     My continued silence is enough of an answer to him. His smirk widens, feline, predatory.     "Oh ho ho. So the little wayward, angry bastard wants another favour." He lowers the cigarette, taps his fingers against the arm of my chair. Ashes fall to the equally rat