He was used to Tamaki being physical. He was affectionate. He held and touched.
But, right now... No. He couldn't help it.
He recoiled from the embrace like it was a blow, tore himself away. Because he would not be pitied.
That cut even deeper.
He couldn't protect his friends. He acted like his father. He earned pity.]
God damn you.
[It's quiet, though. Hurt and anger and frustration and everything that had no outlet.
But. No. Deep breath in. Let it out. Straight up. Eye contact. Never mind that his hand was curled tight, that nails he was still trying to maintain were starting to cut into his skin.
If he'd thought he could live with himself after doing it, he'd have already lashed out his hand to smack Tamaki. Just to make him tell him to go. But that wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to resort to that. He'd felt justified smacking Link. There would never be an excuse to slap Tamaki. He'd never let himself.]
May I go, Captain?
[Cold. Formal. Like their old arguments about the club. Back to those more uncertain days. When it was easier to use rank, while they were still settling into one another.
Holding desperately onto what pride he could still manage to salvage.
...Except he couldn't. Under his breath, he couldn't help but mutter, almost in apology:]
Let me leave, Tamaki. Give me space, give me time. Before I say or do something I really regret.
["I can't deal with this right now. Don't make me."]
[Private]
He was used to Tamaki being physical. He was affectionate. He held and touched.
But, right now... No. He couldn't help it.
He recoiled from the embrace like it was a blow, tore himself away. Because he would not be pitied.
That cut even deeper.
He couldn't protect his friends. He acted like his father. He earned pity.]
God damn you.
[It's quiet, though. Hurt and anger and frustration and everything that had no outlet.
But. No. Deep breath in. Let it out. Straight up. Eye contact. Never mind that his hand was curled tight, that nails he was still trying to maintain were starting to cut into his skin.
If he'd thought he could live with himself after doing it, he'd have already lashed out his hand to smack Tamaki. Just to make him tell him to go. But that wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to resort to that. He'd felt justified smacking Link. There would never be an excuse to slap Tamaki. He'd never let himself.]
May I go, Captain?
[Cold. Formal. Like their old arguments about the club. Back to those more uncertain days. When it was easier to use rank, while they were still settling into one another.
Holding desperately onto what pride he could still manage to salvage.
...Except he couldn't. Under his breath, he couldn't help but mutter, almost in apology:]
Let me leave, Tamaki. Give me space, give me time. Before I say or do something I really regret.
["I can't deal with this right now. Don't make me."]