[ He'd grown so used to Dokja's insufferably smug, mocking, calm tone of voice that the sudden rise in volume is enough to earn a small start; Gen falters in his slow approach, shoulders tensing as he reflexively prepares himself for some sort of incoming attack.
But all caution gets thrown out the window the moment he sees that look in Dokja's eyes. Distant, unfocused, seeing past him. Like he's little more than an object to be regarded neutrally, like he's barely even there. (It's too familiar. Too raw.) ]
... so it's like that, huh.
[ Gen forces a derisive laugh, because he's grown dangerously used to focusing on causing harm, on damaging others to distract from his own pain. But there's no hiding the way his breaths are starting to come shallow, fists clenched so hard his arms are trembling. There's a breathless, almost rabid way edge to his words when he spits, ]
You're just talking about yourself. You think you know me because you're so up your own ass, you think everyone has the same issues as you. -- what do you think you know about me? About what I left behind? You selfish, stupid ... fuck!
[ In the end, it's too much to hold back. That last word is punctuated by a lunge forward as he aims to sink his fist -- into Dojka's throat this time, to shut him up.
Because he doesn't want to hear this. He hates everything that Dokja's said. He hates the thought that those people he left behind might be the only thing that ever sustained him. He hates that it's probably right. ]
no subject
But all caution gets thrown out the window the moment he sees that look in Dokja's eyes. Distant, unfocused, seeing past him. Like he's little more than an object to be regarded neutrally, like he's barely even there. (It's too familiar. Too raw.) ]
... so it's like that, huh.
[ Gen forces a derisive laugh, because he's grown dangerously used to focusing on causing harm, on damaging others to distract from his own pain. But there's no hiding the way his breaths are starting to come shallow, fists clenched so hard his arms are trembling. There's a breathless, almost rabid way edge to his words when he spits, ]
You're just talking about yourself. You think you know me because you're so up your own ass, you think everyone has the same issues as you. -- what do you think you know about me? About what I left behind? You selfish, stupid ... fuck!
[ In the end, it's too much to hold back. That last word is punctuated by a lunge forward as he aims to sink his fist -- into Dojka's throat this time, to shut him up.
Because he doesn't want to hear this. He hates everything that Dokja's said. He hates the thought that those people he left behind might be the only thing that ever sustained him. He hates that it's probably right. ]