[a lot of guts, huh. most days, that seemed to be all he had. guts, waiting to spill. messy, bloody, vital, and all too easy to pluck out.]
[a sniff, the back of his hand swiped fast under his nose. he doesn't break eye contact with Guy, which means he notices: recognizes, from a kitchen late at night with a redhead long transferred away, someone putting up a wall and corralling emotions into order. for him, that wasn't worth it, wasn't right - bottle up, and the pressure would grow until you exploded. it was the only possible outcome.]
If they weren't, I wouldn't've said them. [all bravado, not a lick of it false. easy to say when you weren't the one looking strung from a meat hook, when your guts were in the right shape and on the right side of your skin, but he'd started on a roll and he wouldn't end it alone.] What about you?
no subject
[a sniff, the back of his hand swiped fast under his nose. he doesn't break eye contact with Guy, which means he notices: recognizes, from a kitchen late at night with a redhead long transferred away, someone putting up a wall and corralling emotions into order. for him, that wasn't worth it, wasn't right - bottle up, and the pressure would grow until you exploded. it was the only possible outcome.]
If they weren't, I wouldn't've said them. [all bravado, not a lick of it false. easy to say when you weren't the one looking strung from a meat hook, when your guts were in the right shape and on the right side of your skin, but he'd started on a roll and he wouldn't end it alone.] What about you?