[ Somewhere deep down inside, Gen understands why Ernesto must be giving him that look -- he knows most people are averse to violence, that most wouldn't want to strike another person, that it's perfectly understandable for Ernesto to be upset by what he has to do. He knows that, he really does.
But the truth of the matter is that he's not used to anyone looking at him like that. Like something hurt, like something worth pitying. It sends a sharp pang of sensation ripping through his chest, something that he can't quite put a name to. Denial, maybe, or frustration, or even a touch of anxiety.
Anger is most definitely a part of it, though, and so of course he settles for expressing that, because it's what comes easiest to him.
He'd initially stiffened at Ernesto's quiet inquiry, his struggles briefly coming to a complete halt, teeth gritted and brow knit with a touch of discomfort, but all that's swiped away quickly enough. After one, two jagged breaths he abruptly lunges against Ernesto's weight with all his strength and snarls, ]
-- you think I'm that weak?!
[ Of course that's where he goes. Because it's always easier to bristle and bare his teeth than it is to acknowledge that he's been weak or compromised in any way. That he's essentially asking Ernesto to cooperate for him. ]
You're wasting your breath asking something like that? You want me to break you nose to prove something?!
[ His fervor in fighting against Ernesto certainly makes that threat sound real; it would be so much easier for Ernesto to put a stop to it with a punch, wouldn't it? ]
no subject
But the truth of the matter is that he's not used to anyone looking at him like that. Like something hurt, like something worth pitying. It sends a sharp pang of sensation ripping through his chest, something that he can't quite put a name to. Denial, maybe, or frustration, or even a touch of anxiety.
Anger is most definitely a part of it, though, and so of course he settles for expressing that, because it's what comes easiest to him.
He'd initially stiffened at Ernesto's quiet inquiry, his struggles briefly coming to a complete halt, teeth gritted and brow knit with a touch of discomfort, but all that's swiped away quickly enough. After one, two jagged breaths he abruptly lunges against Ernesto's weight with all his strength and snarls, ]
-- you think I'm that weak?!
[ Of course that's where he goes. Because it's always easier to bristle and bare his teeth than it is to acknowledge that he's been weak or compromised in any way. That he's essentially asking Ernesto to cooperate for him. ]
You're wasting your breath asking something like that? You want me to break you nose to prove something?!
[ His fervor in fighting against Ernesto certainly makes that threat sound real; it would be so much easier for Ernesto to put a stop to it with a punch, wouldn't it? ]