“mark.” you smiled, trying to make him look at you. instead of following your hold and turning to you he held firm, most definitely using his powers to keep his feet planted.

“i don’t know who this mark is,” he teases, clearly joking despite his deadpanned expression. “maybe try baby, my love, sweetheart, handsome, lover, angel, i love when you call me angel. you should call me angel and maybe ill respond.” he practically purrs, turning around to face you, contradicting himself in almost every way.