[as he watches Kit gingerly get to his feet, he can't help but wonder if he should extend a hand to make the transition slightly less painful. although he doesn't act on it, the thought's existence alone is enough to startle him. hadn't it been only five minutes ago that he was ready to see this douchebag's brains splattered across the concrete?
the sentiment still holds true, judging by the excitement that a potential rematch filled him with, but there was something more casual about it now. this scrap wasn't enough to merit Vincent deciding he liked the guy (he didn't care for much of anyone, bandmates included) but something had undeniably shifted.
he was interesting, that was all. arrogant and too repressed for his own good, but burning hotly enough that even his own sense of restraint couldn't completely disguise it. there was very little in the teen that resembled the wild tales Styx had told him...but that wasn't much of a bad thing.
it's potential, he settles on eventually. he's only vaguely concerned because he wants to see what a real fight might bring for both of them.]
Could've fooled me. [no one who brawled on the regular would have even considered pulling that stunt with the soda can. but Vincent's voice is still amused rather than bitter.] Just remember that you wanted it when you're chewing dirt later.
[he's not an open enough person to be able to say it plainly the way Kit can, but he's confident that the other boy can easily read the message between his boasting: that he'd like a true fight just as much.
that uncomfortable concern rears its ugly head as Vincent's gaze shifts from his companion leaning against the wall to back up the stairs they'd recently toppled from. it would be best to get him back to the guest rooms so he could lay down and rest, that was certain, but if they left now then the odds of him being able to return and successfully retrieve his piercing were almost nil. as soon as the sun rose there would be too much traffic to keep the tiny thing in its place.
could he stand to wait a few moments while he made the search? ...hell, why was it his problem what Kit could or couldn't handle?
irritation at his own erratic thoughts pushing him on, he pushes off the railing and begins to warily mount the stairs back up to the start of their encounter. there may not be any point in hiding things now, but Vincent's pride still dictates that he make it look like this simple task isn't causing his muscles to scream out in protest. even with his best efforts, however, his pace remains slow and gentle.]
Assuming you don't drop before then, anyway.
[...irritation can only defeat so much. he can't help throwing out that backhanded expression of concern even after deciding he wasn't going to care; it was acceptable so long as he made it a demand rather than a worry, he presumed.]
no subject
the sentiment still holds true, judging by the excitement that a potential rematch filled him with, but there was something more casual about it now. this scrap wasn't enough to merit Vincent deciding he liked the guy (he didn't care for much of anyone, bandmates included) but something had undeniably shifted.
he was interesting, that was all. arrogant and too repressed for his own good, but burning hotly enough that even his own sense of restraint couldn't completely disguise it. there was very little in the teen that resembled the wild tales Styx had told him...but that wasn't much of a bad thing.
it's potential, he settles on eventually. he's only vaguely concerned because he wants to see what a real fight might bring for both of them.]
Could've fooled me. [no one who brawled on the regular would have even considered pulling that stunt with the soda can. but Vincent's voice is still amused rather than bitter.] Just remember that you wanted it when you're chewing dirt later.
[he's not an open enough person to be able to say it plainly the way Kit can, but he's confident that the other boy can easily read the message between his boasting: that he'd like a true fight just as much.
that uncomfortable concern rears its ugly head as Vincent's gaze shifts from his companion leaning against the wall to back up the stairs they'd recently toppled from. it would be best to get him back to the guest rooms so he could lay down and rest, that was certain, but if they left now then the odds of him being able to return and successfully retrieve his piercing were almost nil. as soon as the sun rose there would be too much traffic to keep the tiny thing in its place.
could he stand to wait a few moments while he made the search? ...hell, why was it his problem what Kit could or couldn't handle?
irritation at his own erratic thoughts pushing him on, he pushes off the railing and begins to warily mount the stairs back up to the start of their encounter. there may not be any point in hiding things now, but Vincent's pride still dictates that he make it look like this simple task isn't causing his muscles to scream out in protest. even with his best efforts, however, his pace remains slow and gentle.]
Assuming you don't drop before then, anyway.
[...irritation can only defeat so much. he can't help throwing out that backhanded expression of concern even after deciding he wasn't going to care; it was acceptable so long as he made it a demand rather than a worry, he presumed.]