[A hint of cool disregard takes over his face. It's so unlike his usual: the vacancy in his eyes, the heaviness in his brow, the way his mouth holds onto the weight of a frown and stays there. Greed closes his eyes and skates two of his claws just underneath the line of ink following his hip.]

You won't hurt me. Not like you think. [That smile of his tries its very best, but it's exhausted in a whole different way. Like the wee hours of the morning making an effort to stay awake.] I told you when we met that I'm built different. And you've known me long enough now to understand that I'm not lying. Just make it count.

[With his other hand, he reaches out, opening his fingers into a flat palm.] I promise, I won't hold it against you. Just close your eyes and pretend - [The rest of him leers in. He throws his other hands behind her, pinning them on the backside of the couch to make him hover over her. He's eating all the space she'll give him - pushing the limits, the boundaries, for one thing and one thing only.]

[If she chokes now, she's a goner later. Better to do it with someone who won't fight back.]

[Greed stares daggers at the wall in front of him, but his voice comes out with the same sing-song slur, the same hum, as before.] - pretend this is it. Your one shot. You won't have another. [He relaxes his torso and the last threads of that second skin disappear under the lip of his pants. He's letting it all down: his boundaries, his defenses, his 'Shield. It isn't the first time he's done this, not by a long shot. But how many times will he have to, how many times will this same story play out, time after time, again and again?]

[The Sin's face goes cold and blank.]

[In the end, it doesn't matter. There's a cost to doing business, and then there's the cost of living. He has the luxury of both in spades.]

[And this price tag? Well, it's one he's willing to pay out for.]