It was yelling at him. It was yelling at him as if all of this was his fault. It obviously had no idea about how his sister was the one throwing him around before now, being reckless and all around clumsy with its stupid bottle--lamp... thing. But perhaps it was better that this thing directed its anger at him rather than her. For all her faults, he would never wish something like this onto his sister.
"O-Ok, ok... I won't," he replied defensively when it ordered him never to drop the bottle again. As if that was his fault too, because having magical, evil, monsters suddenly eke from an antique bottle is commonplace this century!
When it disappeared back into the bottle and the stopper found its place in the opening, Alex let out a tremendous sigh and let himself collapse to the floor at the edge of the couch. His body was shaking, eyes still staring at the bottle, just in case that thing decided to pop out on its own.
After he had some time to collect his nerves and think everything over a bit, he carefully picked up the bottle and set it on his coffee table, resting it inside of a natural, decorative bird nest with pine cones around it. A candle used to be there, but it was easily removed. And then he stared some more. "What the hell am I going to do with this thing?" he wondered out loud.
...Fore in your gravest hour, at your side he shall be.
