it was needless to say that she hadn’t been EXPECTING it —- the kiss pressed to her cheek via way of her former self && if she were to be perfectly HONEST, she wasn’t in the utmost certain how to react. because, whilst it could be that of an innocent gesture, she KNEW herself better than that, there had to be a REASON behind it, there was a reason behind everything they did, there always had been. ❝ && just what did i do to DESERVE that, dearest, hmm ?? ❞ smile found its way ‘cross the expanse of her features, head canting marginally as she looked to him. that’s how she was REACTING to it, && despite her skepticism as to the basis of the kiss, the smile that took a – hold of her countenance was that of a GENUINE notion, for it was a rather SWEET act, after all, no matter the backstory behind it.
The beauty of this interaction is that the Master has truly engaged for innocent reasons; yet he knows himself, and he knows herself, and he knows she will suspect foul play.
So naturally, he encourages this misapprehension of self–such a paradox, but one that’s fun for the sake of chaos–by reflecting Missy’s white-fanged grin.
It’s his most obscene politician smile, crinkling the corners of his dark flint-sharp eyes, disgustingly charming and photogenic, the encapsulation of well-greased charm, and it’s every ounce a playful flirtation, a game.
“What?” he chuckles, and then he laughs that big volcanic thunderous laugh, that gregarious cackle. “Oh, what? You exist, that’s what you did. Come on, we’re a narcissist, after all.”
Icarus 