[ One moment his focus is entirely on Silco, on crushing the man's throat between his hands, and the next moment -- it's like a blade of something icy-cold rends clean through the red haze of bloodlust that had been blanketing his thoughts.
Sebastian might have prepared for a struggle, but Gen freezes first and foremost. Pressed close like this, Sebastian must be able to feel the way Gen's body ratchets so tight with tension that he shivers briefly, muscles pulled cable-taut until they hurt. His shoulders jerk with a halting inhale, his nerves all crackling with uneasy tension; he isn't aware of it, but his canine ears are canted sharply back when he risks a glance over his shoulder towards Sebastian, his face just a touch pale.
He's never liked knives, after back then. And he's never liked people touching his back much, either. Too similar to his worst moments. It feels like an ice-cold hand's gripping tight around his lungs.
With his thoughts tangled in that brief, violent burst of shock and tension, it takes Gen a solid moment to even realize what's happened and who's showed up. To properly feel the knife's blade pressing ever so slightly harder against his throat when he gives a hard swallow. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and it's a little hoarse when he forces himself to speak. ]
This ain't your business.
[ The tendons of his wrist shift when he squeezes harder at Silco's throat, thumbs starting to press into the soft of it to block off his windpipe. -- but not hard enough to properly throttle him, and definitely not hard enough to break it, even if his prosthetic arm could muster the strength for it. Gen's much, much too aware of the threat literally pressed against his skin to make that move. That subtle push is all he can manage as he glares at Sebastian, speaking through gritted teeth. ]
This is between me and him. Fuck off.
[ Silco is the only Zenite who needs to bleed. Gen just wants to make sure it happens. ]
😳
Sebastian might have prepared for a struggle, but Gen freezes first and foremost. Pressed close like this, Sebastian must be able to feel the way Gen's body ratchets so tight with tension that he shivers briefly, muscles pulled cable-taut until they hurt. His shoulders jerk with a halting inhale, his nerves all crackling with uneasy tension; he isn't aware of it, but his canine ears are canted sharply back when he risks a glance over his shoulder towards Sebastian, his face just a touch pale.
He's never liked knives, after back then. And he's never liked people touching his back much, either. Too similar to his worst moments. It feels like an ice-cold hand's gripping tight around his lungs.
With his thoughts tangled in that brief, violent burst of shock and tension, it takes Gen a solid moment to even realize what's happened and who's showed up. To properly feel the knife's blade pressing ever so slightly harder against his throat when he gives a hard swallow. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and it's a little hoarse when he forces himself to speak. ]
This ain't your business.
[ The tendons of his wrist shift when he squeezes harder at Silco's throat, thumbs starting to press into the soft of it to block off his windpipe. -- but not hard enough to properly throttle him, and definitely not hard enough to break it, even if his prosthetic arm could muster the strength for it. Gen's much, much too aware of the threat literally pressed against his skin to make that move. That subtle push is all he can manage as he glares at Sebastian, speaking through gritted teeth. ]
This is between me and him. Fuck off.
[ Silco is the only Zenite who needs to bleed. Gen just wants to make sure it happens. ]