He hissed, recoiling from her a bit, and shot her a dirty look. His jaw worked a bit, as if he planned on asking her what the hell that had been all about, but he seemed to think better of it. Judging by the fact that she'd begged him to kill him after trying to throw him out, he was fairly sure he could guess what she was going for. And so, slowly, he settled back into the couch, still watching her.

"Touch me again, and I'll break your fingers," he threatened. Not kill, not leave -- not like she wanted -- but torture instead.