"What do you mean you killed him?" You demanded; your voice trembling as you struggled to let those words out. The glass of water you held in your hand threatning to shatter against the ground given much you were shaking.

Blade set the dishes he was washing back down on the sink —turning his face to look at you.

"Does that really surprise you?" He said, his voice dead serious. "Come on, now."

You tried denying it, in your mind. There was no way he had killed a man just because he tried to kiss you. No way. He could get arrested, thrown in prison, and never get out, for the crime he just commit: did he want that to happen?

Just as ideas on ways he could get away with the murder circled through your head, Blade moved away from the sink; inching closer to you. He tried cupping your face, but instead you backed away from him: horrified he'd even done such a thing.

"He got too close for comfort. Too close," He justified.

"You know I don't want to share you."