Galen slowly unclenched his fists and took a deep breath. Little Galen? The rest of her rudeness was just empty blabbering, as always - it just showed how sophisticated the "noble" people really are. But little? That one went through his ego like a hot knife through butter.<br/><br/>"Yeah, run to daddy, you rodent!" he grumbled at her back. "You'll need his help for when you're crawling in the dirt, looking for the fangs I just bashed out of your smelly mouth." he added quietly to himself. It was stupid arrogant greedy little brats like this one that really made his knuckles tingle. Daddy's girl born with a silver dildo up her ass, spending her nights in empty chatter and playing little mind games and thinking high of herself without having done anything to deserve her position. While he'd had to grow up on the street, starving and scared, scratching and biting his way up. He never got to call daddy - his daddy and his mommy had been dead since he was three, and there was only one person he could rely upon. Himself.<br/><br/>He picked up her bags and carried them to the bedroom, dumping them onto the bed. Then he shook his head and walked out of the apartment, and down the stairs and out on the street with his heavy bad-boy walk, chest leaning forward, shoulders swinging to make him look meaner and tougher. Not that he needed it - but it was the way he was used to walk since his days as Edinburgh's crime syndicate's resident mauler. Demetrina was mocking him so hard on that "big dick strut", as she liked to call it, but he still couldn't shake it off.<br/><br/>He breathed in deeply, inhaling the crispy night air. He looked in both directions. Suddenly, an image appeared in his head - the image of a slim brunette rushing by on wobbly high heels. He thought about her for a second, wondering why he was so intrigued. Maybe it was the scent of youth, innocence, and utter sweetness she had filled his being with. Or the clothes - so cheap, so plain and yet so pretty. Armani suits would not have been his first choice if not for his Sire. He liked jeans.