Snippet #1689737

James kept an eye on Gepetto, standing a few feet from him and watching him warily. Just in case. James did not want to have to clean anything up or have to fix something that had been broken. Drunks rarely had their own best intrest in mind. Or anything at all in their head. James knew this from many, many years of cleaning up after Drake after his master had downed one too many bottles. You could learn so much from a man when he was drunk. James had heard most of Drake's life story, more times that he had cared to, that way.

The pale youth examined the young man. Gepetto really was handsome. No, that wasn't quite the word. He was pretty, yes that was it. If James had cared about his looks at all he'd have been jealous. But he was not jealous of that. He was jealous that this man would get to die. To leave. And it wouldn't hurt for all that long. If James died it would take nearly a month of pure agony. The agony of starvation. James frowned unhappily. It was better not to dwell on such painful things as one's own demise. He tipped his head to one side as he stared at Gepetto's face. It was ironic. Both of them seemed young, but both were older than they looked. James felt a small flash of superiority. He was the oldest 'mortal' here by far.

James decided that he wanted a closer look. It wouldn't matter what Gepetto thought of a butler sitting next to him because Gepetto wouldn't be alive for very much longer. Who cared what anyone thought? James thought bitterly as he sat down and propped elbow up on the table. His fingers traced the wood grain, and occasionally he would dig his nails into the oaken surface. He leaned forward like a bird poised for flight, examining the man before him with an unnerving intensity. What made him so human looking? Or maybe it was what James could see that others couldn't. The warm light inside of a human that signified life. That little bit of life that James lacked.