Golden Glade if you take my advice you're bound to be damned

Even his kindness is sharp.  

She feels like talking to him is like walking a knife's edge and she is treading close enough to bleed.  She could see it in him, that ichor-dark want.  And she could imagine shining alabaster dripping with blood as he snapped her throat.

Oh, you're smarter than that.  She knows now there is a (sometimes thin) difference between being a monster and doing monstrous things.   

He steps closer and her breath catches.  It's okay, he assures her.  Still, part of her felt like she'd made a deal with the devil himself.  You're right, she says more calmly, trying to smooth her features into something kinder.  There is still a hint of mistrust in her eyes, but he's fooled her.

Someone else might've taken advantage of that.  Someone that was a monster instead of someone who did monstrous things.  She trusted him to be the latter.

I should get home.  Maybe we'll see each other again.