[ The good thing about the helmet, now missing, is that it masked all emotion. York wouldn't have been able to see the transition from fury to desperation, to pain, back to anger again, as his fingers curl at his sides. ]
I can still fight. I still have purpose. I refuse--
[ The words fail him. Something tightens in his chest to the point that he can't form words, and he turns away abruptly, hands going towards the table to steady himself. ]
no subject
I can still fight. I still have purpose. I refuse--
[ The words fail him. Something tightens in his chest to the point that he can't form words, and he turns away abruptly, hands going towards the table to steady himself. ]