the villian

Jericho’s eyebrow raises as the papers are unceremoniously yanked out of his hands. 

“I didn’t realize an ancient being needed something as mundane and childish as attention,” Jericho drawls, leaning forward and tilting his head to the side in a similar way a bird might. “I’ll have to suffer through a fair amount of moaning for losing those papers, by the way.” 

He rises and catches Vivian by the neck, leans down so they are nose to nose. The tip of his crooked one drifts over her deliciously smooth cheek as he snarls into her ear, “You want my attention, dear? You have it -- my undivided attention.”