[eyes snap to Guy's, narrowing fast at the warning in Guy's tone. he shifts restlessly, weight moving left, right, to the balls of his feet. the words garner a curled lip, teeth bared for a flash of a second--- and closed tight not a moment after, fingers biting into his palms.]
[he forces himself not to calm but to think. to take a second to listen to the quiet noise of medical, the machinery's hum, low tones of visiting friends, shift of curtains and cots.]
[when he speaks, mercifully, it's not a shout. it is firm, biting, and rough as jagged metal.]
no subject
[he forces himself not to calm but to think. to take a second to listen to the quiet noise of medical, the machinery's hum, low tones of visiting friends, shift of curtains and cots.]
[when he speaks, mercifully, it's not a shout. it is firm, biting, and rough as jagged metal.]
Why not? It's invigorating. Actually, really, it's pretty freeing. What's wrong with that?