Meanwhile Kabal has managed to sit up, which is a feat on par with the time he cold clocked Kano and dragged him through a few dimensions to leave him in the Netherrealm. He's lightheaded, his arm is throbbing, he feels weak and frustrated and --
And...
And everything else he was thinking immediately evaporates as Len practically saunters out of the bathroom to the closet in only something lacy. The kind of item that's designed to look as good on someone's body as it does in a ball on the bedroom floor. Well that answers the question about blue or black.
"What happened to you not enjoying torturing me?" He's looking. He is definitely looking and the mask sure as fuck isn't hiding it. Sweeping his eyes over those scars, down to how his ass looks all cutely canted to the side, and back up to those eyes that are looking oh so alluring right now.
"Shirts just get in the way." Of what? He's not saying, but he's also not exactly thinking right now.
Kabal does not make good decisions, that's more than obvious. And right now his really good idea is something along the lines of standing up and getting significantly closer to the guy who was scrubbing off his skin not twenty minutes ago.
Fortunately for his idiot brain that would ooze out of his skull when he fell and cracked it open on the floor, he's far too weak to do anything beyond sitting up.
And he is absolutely furious about it.
Gnashing his teeth he keeps right on staring, because at least he's got a good view in case he dies in the night from his arm getting infected. That's probably not how infections work but he's not a doctor, he doesn't know.
"So new plan is to kill me so you don't have to change this bandage later?"
no subject
And...
And everything else he was thinking immediately evaporates as Len practically saunters out of the bathroom to the closet in only something lacy. The kind of item that's designed to look as good on someone's body as it does in a ball on the bedroom floor. Well that answers the question about blue or black.
"What happened to you not enjoying torturing me?" He's looking. He is definitely looking and the mask sure as fuck isn't hiding it. Sweeping his eyes over those scars, down to how his ass looks all cutely canted to the side, and back up to those eyes that are looking oh so alluring right now.
"Shirts just get in the way." Of what? He's not saying, but he's also not exactly thinking right now.
Kabal does not make good decisions, that's more than obvious. And right now his really good idea is something along the lines of standing up and getting significantly closer to the guy who was scrubbing off his skin not twenty minutes ago.
Fortunately for his idiot brain that would ooze out of his skull when he fell and cracked it open on the floor, he's far too weak to do anything beyond sitting up.
And he is absolutely furious about it.
Gnashing his teeth he keeps right on staring, because at least he's got a good view in case he dies in the night from his arm getting infected. That's probably not how infections work but he's not a doctor, he doesn't know.
"So new plan is to kill me so you don't have to change this bandage later?"