Daemon was laughing, quite hysterically, right in Adam's ear. Adam grimaced, both at his truly awful luck, and by the absolute bastard stuck in his head. "This is /quite/ the position for you, Adam. I must say, you look so nice I could eat you right up."
"Enough with your awful jokes, you prick," Adam grumbled quietly, as as to not alert the very dangerous; very armed man at the teller booth. "That wasn't even funny. You're not funny. At all. Ever."
"What? Lies. You laughed when I made a similar joke the first we met. You think I'm /funny/ admit it." The mental image of Daemon; white teeth gleaming, purple eyes sharp in the darkness that was his domain, was infuriating. What was even more infuriating was the pudding cup he held half eaten in his hands.
"Is that my last chocolate pudding?" Adam hissed; more affronted at such theivery than the actual bank robbery going on in front of him.
"And what if it was?" Daemon's teeth clicked awfully against the metal of the spoon. He looked very pleased with himself. "Oh, that's an awful job of knotting they did at your wrists. If they aren't careful, you'll lose circulation in those pretty hands of yours."
"I hate you," Adam hissed.
"Mmm, no you don't, dearest."
"I do. So much. Will you fucking help me?" Daemon was right, at the very least, in the fact that Adam was very quickly losing feeling in his hands. He had been shoved to the ground and tied up quickly and painfully. Not usually his favorite way, certainly. "What did I sell my soul to you for, if not for you to be fucking useful for once?"
"Ugh," Daemon whined, rather theatrically - head thrown back and hand limp - before getting up from his carefully crafted ("The wood - I took it from the corpse of a wood nymph. It's a beautiful deep red, you see, like the blood of my enemies blah blah blah, demon dramatics, you know," he had explained once.) throne. "Fine. God, you are so melodramatic."
"I'm melodramatic??" Adam exclaimed; unable to keep his temper down. "Me? Oh, fuck right off! If anything, you've influenced ME for so many years with your blasted whining and complaining when YOU get us into every bullshit situation we g-"
"What the fuck are you doing? We said quiet!" One of the robbers - a truly awfully dressed goon with dirty sneakers and a gross looking hoodie on - spun around to point the gun, rather rudely, at Adam.
"Tut tut," Daemon said; voice changing into something low and gutteral. "You shouldn't have do