[He's never had anyone talk to him like this. A part of him wants to snap in anger. Another part of him wants to hang his head, ashamed, admonished. It's one thing if this came from a stranger, where he could simply let it all slide off his back and move on solidly without a care.]

[Hearing it from Daan makes him feel something twist in the depths of his stomach. His eyes widen - that red gaze, staring through the shadows of his hair, fixates on the other's face.]

Funny how...I could say the same things about you.

[He reaches up, fingertips grazing against the man's cheek.]

I'm a killer. I'll continue to kill. I've bathed in blood like nothing else. Am I not anathema to you?