[The resulting laugh from Vincent's startled reception of his gratitude was cut short by the second question and its implication. So, his reputation preceded him yet again...
Smile fading, replaced with something of a neutral if still stony expression, Kit shrugged his shoulders. His head was still aching, making critical thinking difficult, but he knew better than to feel insulted by being underestimated by a stranger. The less people thought of him, the greater his advantage should things between them ever come to blows.
It was that simple: not revealing all one's secrets unless absolutely necessary was how to ensure survival.]
I don't know about that.
[To listen to him, it would be quite difficult to determine if he was still experiencing any of the discomfort from a moment ago, and it was no more obvious by looking, either. He tilted back that cherry soda with complete nonchalance, no more wobble in his stance, and only mild curiosity reflected in the way he gazed at the smaller boy over the rim of the can when it was lowered again.
It required great concentration to maintain such composure with the walls of his skull still feeling like they might collapse inward upon themselves, but he had always been rather expert at enduring. A determination to always remain the last man standing would do that.]
Maybe you've mistaken me for someone else.
[Or maybe it wasn't a mistake at all. In many ways, he wasn't the same person who'd been admitted to the juvenile detention center. He'd cut ties with many of the gang members he'd used to know, had given up that way of life, and the only thieving he participated in these days was, while still self-serving, also considerably more honest. His style of dress was more respectable, and he even had a steady part-time job and practiced respectable hobbies while maintaining an excellent GPA while attending Green Valley. For all intents and purposes...he'd been reborn.]
no subject
Smile fading, replaced with something of a neutral if still stony expression, Kit shrugged his shoulders. His head was still aching, making critical thinking difficult, but he knew better than to feel insulted by being underestimated by a stranger. The less people thought of him, the greater his advantage should things between them ever come to blows.
It was that simple: not revealing all one's secrets unless absolutely necessary was how to ensure survival.]
I don't know about that.
[To listen to him, it would be quite difficult to determine if he was still experiencing any of the discomfort from a moment ago, and it was no more obvious by looking, either. He tilted back that cherry soda with complete nonchalance, no more wobble in his stance, and only mild curiosity reflected in the way he gazed at the smaller boy over the rim of the can when it was lowered again.
It required great concentration to maintain such composure with the walls of his skull still feeling like they might collapse inward upon themselves, but he had always been rather expert at enduring. A determination to always remain the last man standing would do that.]
Maybe you've mistaken me for someone else.
[Or maybe it wasn't a mistake at all. In many ways, he wasn't the same person who'd been admitted to the juvenile detention center. He'd cut ties with many of the gang members he'd used to know, had given up that way of life, and the only thieving he participated in these days was, while still self-serving, also considerably more honest. His style of dress was more respectable, and he even had a steady part-time job and practiced respectable hobbies while maintaining an excellent GPA while attending Green Valley. For all intents and purposes...he'd been reborn.]