[ The anger Hei is trying to contain nearly bursts through. Forcibly, he counts his breaths, slowly getting them down to five a minute. Then he unclenches his hands from around the fallen knickknacks, and drops them back in the box. The hollow thunk is oddly final. ]
[ Without meeting her gaze, he rises, jerking the full box into her hands. Part of him wants to pick apart the fallacy of her argument, to remind her that Zaheer isn't a fucking potted plant but a real and undeniable threat to her safety. But another part of him knows that if she starts off mining that rich conversational seam, she'll understand the sentiment weighing his actions. She'll realize that he was motivated by nothing beyond the fact that he stood to lose her. ]
[ To strike on impulse is to invite disaster. A dictum he's lived by all his life. Or had -- until he'd arrived in the City, which is a disaster-zone in and of itself. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2016-05-08 04:39 am (UTC)[ Without meeting her gaze, he rises, jerking the full box into her hands. Part of him wants to pick apart the fallacy of her argument, to remind her that Zaheer isn't a fucking potted plant but a real and undeniable threat to her safety. But another part of him knows that if she starts off mining that rich conversational seam, she'll understand the sentiment weighing his actions. She'll realize that he was motivated by nothing beyond the fact that he stood to lose her. ]
[ To strike on impulse is to invite disaster. A dictum he's lived by all his life. Or had -- until he'd arrived in the City, which is a disaster-zone in and of itself. ]
[ Flatly, ]
Think what you like.