The smile on her own pale face is enough to make him feel perhaps even more violent and chaotic than he already did. The sable haired blood sucker hates the way she wanted to extend her friendship towards him, smiling at him as if it would solve all the problems in the world, within him. "You do not know anything," Cobain says to her, those ruby eyes not leaving her own. She needed to know, to understand this world and all it wickedness, this foolish girl. Why the vampire with hair as dark as onyx cared about this girl at all is certainly up for debate. "You are weak." He says. Now, she didn't necessarily look week, but Cobain just wants to tear her down so she's on his level and it's not so hard to imagine him being worthy of her time. Outwardly, the pale boy looks as stoic as ever, but inside, there was a struggle to retain the hold onto whatever sanity remained of this boy, keeping those tattered and frayed edges from flapping around in the wind. Razor sharp claws raking against him, angrily trying to beat down the doors into his mind and break open that chest that remains behind walls and doors and moats in the boy's mind. This one single piece that Risque has never been allowed to touch. This one piece he has, however deep and tightly encased it is, that has remained entirely him, even through death and rebirth by his maker.

He drags in a heavy breath, standing silent for a moment, battling for control. He would not be undone by a weak, little fae woman. Cobain wanted nothing more than to take her blood and simply leave her body limp and lifeless in the woods and continue on his way with his night of freedom. Those crimson eyes look at her, she looked so fragile with that porcelain skin and delicate build, he thinks about how easily he could break her. Maybe he should. Why did he have to have come across her?

She wriggles in his vice like grip, like prey trying to free itself from the jaws of the predator. He feels the movement of fabric of her jacket beneath his fingers and still he does not let go. He pulls her closer still to him as words finally find him again. "What is your name?" He asks, such a common question asked in such a vicious and violent way, perhaps more forceful than even he intended, leaving his lips in much the same way he thrust her backwards and away from himself. It was frustrating to him, how she was both vexing and almost magnetic to him. As she looks to him with that metallic gaze, the vampire boy stays silent for a moment, studying her, he could taste her scent on his tongue. Every breath was filled with her. It disturbed him and transfixed him. He can see those tears threatening to fall from her eyes and Cobain hates herself and himself even more for it. They were both weak then, it could be seen now. "You disturb me," is all he offers her in words of comfort. She fascinated him in a way hat no one ever had and he hated her for it. The vampire with that dark black hair cant understand why she stays, after the way he has just treated her. She should run, run away. Perhaps then, once she realizes her danger, once she fears him, once she hates him, then perhaps he can finally allow himself the satisfaction of killing her.

The touch of her lips against his cold skin, causes the obsidian haired hell child to freeze. No one, in so long, perhaps not ever in his life had touched him with such gentleness and tenderness. Cobain wishes for nothing more than to wring the girls neck in this moment for even daring to touch him. Risque, of course, had tried to bring out those feelings of need and want and lust, wanting Cobain to be under her spell, to manipulate them, but Cobain's morals on that front tried to stay strong. And now the ebony haired teen was going to be unraveled but this girl?

He is bobbing around in the churning waves of an inky black sea of confused emotions he can't comprehend. He wants to hurt her for being so pretty but at the same time, he feels this immense guilt for crimes he has not even yet committed against her. Really, all he can think of doing right now is retreating into his mind or ripping out fistfuls of his own hair to escape this mess he's created within himself. The tender kiss upon his brow causes a vulgar shiver goes up his xylophone spine and he clenches his teeth in response to the contact. Cobain has no idea what to say, as he's never been this close to anyone physically. The breaking is rather unbearable and he shows his displeasure to the girl, he wants nothing more than for her to run away from him. Cobain is all to aware that most interactions between a girl and a boy are purely sexual, but he would never let himself harbor such wicked sins beneath his pale flesh.

Cobain was the type of person to sell his soul for a pair of wings and then blame himself when they burn up in the sun. Cobain can remember being just a little boy in his village, climbing out of his house to the sounds of dogs mourning the moon and crickets conducting their own symphony in homage to the night. Sprained his ankle crawling out of the window on the second story and tumbling into the bushes, but it was a necessary sacrifice for the dark, dangerous calm of night. He wonders what it is that draws creatures to the things they fear. Is it the nervous racing of their heart? The knowledge that every fear can be overcome with enough effort? The need to prove something, or the chance to draw sympathy from it later? Of course, Cobain has no sympathy left, if he had even had it in the first place. Maybe he lost a piece of himself, on that cold, dark night with the howling dogs and choir of crickets and have since poisoned everything that he wanted for the sake of hating himself and everyone he came in contact with.

His eyes dance almost crazily as he looks at her, trying to focus on her face. She was beautiful in every curve of her face, and he hated her for it. Cobain was his own beauty too, in a distressed sort of way. But in the end, when Risque destroys him as she is sure to do one day, he will not be remembered for the vampire child, but he will be remembered for the boy that never was. "You are a reason," he says rather sharply, because he still so badly wants to hurt her. The wind blows, messing that dark sable hair upon his head. But, in the end, Cobain loves, more than hurting other people, hurting himself.

Her lips are against his and the feeling is vile, sickening. Even Risque, through all her beauty and seduction, he had never even considered such an action with her. So why this girl with these long, pale silken tresses? What did she have? She doesn't believe him, doesn't believe the words the sable haired vampire says to her. He wants to wring her delicate neck to make it very clear that he entirely means what he says. To his own surprise, he releases her arms, and this time does not push her away, but instead, takes a step back from her. Clearly, the hell child was confused as to what had just happened. "You did this to me."