( He still doesn't get it — right up until like you've walked through fire. That's when it pings, that's when the connection is made, ringing clarion in his mind, loud enough to break through the fog of anger. There's a telling flicker of his expression, a fleeting moment of eyes widening in surprise and definitive recognition before he can smooth it back out again into something hard.
He reels himself in. A layer of agitation remains, lingers, seemingly a permanent fixture these days, but it's paved over by a stone of dread just beginning to sink heavily into his stomach, the fleeting first moments of its descent and all the ripples it brings with it.
He wants to be angry. It's easier to be angry, a hell of a lot easier to burn like that than to process the other things that are starting to take its place. )
Nothing.
( He snaps, but it's a moment too late and with far less conviction than he had a second ago. Try as he might to hang onto the simplicity of it, it's slipping away. His body language changes, softening, backing down while he replays the last few minutes in his mind with a clearer head. What had he said again? It felt right in the moment, felt justified, but-
The mark feels hot on his forearm, feels tender, like a still-healing burn.
Denial's been working so great for him thus far, time to aggressively and convincingly double down: )
Nothing. I'm fine.
( Which of the two of them is he really trying to convince? )
no subject
He reels himself in. A layer of agitation remains, lingers, seemingly a permanent fixture these days, but it's paved over by a stone of dread just beginning to sink heavily into his stomach, the fleeting first moments of its descent and all the ripples it brings with it.
He wants to be angry. It's easier to be angry, a hell of a lot easier to burn like that than to process the other things that are starting to take its place. )
Nothing.
( He snaps, but it's a moment too late and with far less conviction than he had a second ago. Try as he might to hang onto the simplicity of it, it's slipping away. His body language changes, softening, backing down while he replays the last few minutes in his mind with a clearer head. What had he said again? It felt right in the moment, felt justified, but-
The mark feels hot on his forearm, feels tender, like a still-healing burn.
Denial's been working so great for him thus far, time to aggressively and convincingly double down: )
Nothing. I'm fine.
( Which of the two of them is he really trying to convince? )