03-28-2020, 06:25 PM
He felt for the kid. After an explosion of fear she tugged at his hand, and Raffe stumbled forward a few steps before she slipped free from the way he clearly lagged. He didn't stop her, but exasperation touched his brow; mediation wasn’t going to work here, but he did hate conflict. Still, he suspected the most important thing was to get somewhere safe before they began to try and unravel the sorts of questions Sterling was yelling. A practicality he was sure she wouldn’t appreciate it, but there it was.
He glanced at Nox, who yelled after his cousin into the darkness, but by the look of him he was brimming with frustration of his own. Fire and fire, those two.
A moment later the stone bounced against the ground, but at least she hadn’t hit him with it. Maybe the jest about kicking had sunk in somewhere even if she was presently angry and afraid. He didn’t blame her for either of those things, really. Raffe’s pulse had calmed, but the adrenaline was still coursing his veins. He could still see that bullet. Still felt the expectant flinch of an impact that never came.
“Not really,” he said truthfully to the question, but it was accompanied by a crooked grin. He scruffed a hand through his hair. Emotion ran free through him, and he generally hid little of it. Sometimes the girls teased him for it, the openness with which he approached life, but Raffe didn’t know another way to live. The outstretched hand surprised him, if only because Nox had seemed caged by duty; isolated in the role of protector. It made him seem a little vulnerable.
He grabbed his hand without hesitation, squeezed comfort without words. Belatedly Nox’s earlier words hit home. What else could be down here?
He glanced at Nox, who yelled after his cousin into the darkness, but by the look of him he was brimming with frustration of his own. Fire and fire, those two.
A moment later the stone bounced against the ground, but at least she hadn’t hit him with it. Maybe the jest about kicking had sunk in somewhere even if she was presently angry and afraid. He didn’t blame her for either of those things, really. Raffe’s pulse had calmed, but the adrenaline was still coursing his veins. He could still see that bullet. Still felt the expectant flinch of an impact that never came.
“Not really,” he said truthfully to the question, but it was accompanied by a crooked grin. He scruffed a hand through his hair. Emotion ran free through him, and he generally hid little of it. Sometimes the girls teased him for it, the openness with which he approached life, but Raffe didn’t know another way to live. The outstretched hand surprised him, if only because Nox had seemed caged by duty; isolated in the role of protector. It made him seem a little vulnerable.
He grabbed his hand without hesitation, squeezed comfort without words. Belatedly Nox’s earlier words hit home. What else could be down here?