Overture Downs in the arms of the strangler

pping hits a bit based on what we agreed on, lmk if anything needs to be changed tho!

He doesn't like her smile at all, and he likes her words even less. It doesn't matter that his words hadn't been a threat, or that his intention had not been to start a fight. He's insulted now. There is no fear in the woman, he sees; she's mocking him, surely — which he finds ironic, considering her strange manner of speaking.
You don't scare me. You can't even talk right, He snaps, catching himself before he can take a step back and instead moving forward. No weakness, he reminds himself. Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he lunges. He aims for her throat, but he doesn't know to anticipate the other's movement, and when his teeth meet the wrong place he finds himself only leaving scratches, grip failing — from surprise, and from the sudden wave of self-doubt at the most inconvenient of moments.