[ York deflects with humor, he knows that. The look in his eye says enough, and the wash of shame is palpable. You should have known better, I'm not worth expending the effort for, you should have picked a better friend... It all tumbles in a sick, twisting knot in his stomach that he's choosing not to acknowledge.
That drink is looking better by the second, however. And, well.
Quietly, he reaches up to unlatch his helmet, pulling it free, and far from looking stony and stoic, Locus looks harrowed. Almost afraid. Even if his hands are steady. ]
I would not blame you if you did a good deal more than that.
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That drink is looking better by the second, however. And, well.
Quietly, he reaches up to unlatch his helmet, pulling it free, and far from looking stony and stoic, Locus looks harrowed. Almost afraid. Even if his hands are steady. ]
I would not blame you if you did a good deal more than that.