#or will he...

"Sit on it?"

There's a displeased rumble from his throat. His voice cracks from nicotine abuse and a severe lack of hydration. His arm flies at your neck and in a blink, your legs are swept from under you. All his force weighs into your throat as he leisurely kneels, kicking his other leg over your body, his jeans creaking as he moves. A drag of his blade scraps over the floor. The next thing you see is a flash of silver and the edges of your vision clouding.

"I don't think you quite understand your situation here."

.