Shadow Stalker wasn’t emotionally dulled. Her emotions were rich, uninhibited. She was passionate in her emotions: angry, judgemental.
Oh, absolutely. If I were to define her personality in just a few words, “passionate” would probably be one of them.
Even the negative feelings were something he could savor in their own way. He wasn’t really experiencing them – it was more of a very involved spectator role. Her fear was thrilling in the same way a fantastic scary movie was, with the detail and the immersion cranked up to eleven.
Huh, interesting.
He leaped straight up into the air, then activated the shadow state. When she was as high as she would get, he had her grip her cloak in her hands and use it to guide her descent so she could land atop the roof of the gas station. He stopped, stretched her arms.
Heh. Stretching someone else’s arms isn’t something you come across often.
She was breathing hard, but not as much as his Alec-self would be after even half as much running. He could feel the endorphins being pumped into her body from the hard exercise, and he was all the more aware of it because he had his other body to compare to. She was an athlete.
I suppose being able to compare and contrast directly lets you be more aware of your own body, for better or worse.
He ran her hands down her chest, felt her breasts, the muscles of her stomach.
Sophia’s desire to kill Regent probably just skyrocketed way past the point it already was at.
Stretching once more, he clenched her hands, felt the muscles in her arms flex. He felt her shudder in revulsion.
She’s being groped by her own body.
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