It wasn’t the way his hand looked that brought her to flinch back; it was the sheer cruel joy he so clearly took in showing her. It literally shaded the air about him. Swallowing hard, she said, “Well, now that he’s gone, you could get it repaired, or I suppose build yourself a new one. It should be easier than the arc, yes?” She didn’t like the way he held on to the knife, either. “Please, I’m no threat to you.”Tony shrugged easily, as if this was normal, casual. “Not much point to it,” he replied. “Like I said, it doesn’t bother him, what with whatever voodoo he uses to keep it functional, and I doubt he’ll be gone long enough for it to really get to me too much.” His tone was so conversational, as if he was just discussing plans for dinner. Like it was all a given, that his head wouldn’t be his own place for long, and he was entirely alright with that. He tossed the knife up and caught it. “What do you want, Summer? To feel like you tried, where no one asked you to? Congrats. Run along.”
“You can’t possibly want him to stay!” she exclaimed. “It’s your life, your very body he’s taken! Damn near your soul!” She stepped forward, hands outstretched. “I want you to be able to be the man you were before he came along.”