[ Oh, this is bad. Within moments of that arm ratcheting tight around his throat, he can feel his thoughts starting to grow fuzzy around the edges. The noise Gen makes in protest is breathless and, Mamoru might notice, sounds a little younger, closer to his actual age -- after all, it's much harder maintaining his usual, guttural, delinquent affect when his field of vision's starting to swim.
Fuck. He's going to pass out soon, isn't he?
And it's that thought, even more than Mamoru's warning, that has him struggling desperately. Because even worse than the fear of being outnumbered and captured is the humiliating prospect of fainting at this guy's hands. Boots scrape against the ground, accompanied by the rustle of fabric from his thrashing, and that's all the warning Mamoru gets before Gen jerks his arm up to ram that shard of crystal into the junction where Mamoru's neck meets his shoulder, then yanks it upward. And while it's hit nothing dangerous yet ... is Mamoru willing to risk it?
All he needs is a moment. One moment where Mamoru loosens his grip to address the threat to his throat, and he should be able to pull himself free of this chokehold. ]
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Fuck. He's going to pass out soon, isn't he?
And it's that thought, even more than Mamoru's warning, that has him struggling desperately. Because even worse than the fear of being outnumbered and captured is the humiliating prospect of fainting at this guy's hands. Boots scrape against the ground, accompanied by the rustle of fabric from his thrashing, and that's all the warning Mamoru gets before Gen jerks his arm up to ram that shard of crystal into the junction where Mamoru's neck meets his shoulder, then yanks it upward. And while it's hit nothing dangerous yet ... is Mamoru willing to risk it?
All he needs is a moment. One moment where Mamoru loosens his grip to address the threat to his throat, and he should be able to pull himself free of this chokehold. ]