[Disappointment plucks at him, the tension wound high in muscles and jawbone, the hot throbbing in nails and eyeteeth and the joints of his wrist a quiet protest at being held back, at the thought of restraint. It's there in him, the air around him, something threatening to break apart and come undone but he keeps it in, swallows it down. Knows how to obey.
Slowly, he nods.]
As you like it, Sir.
[And he speeds up, purposeful, moving to intercept them.
He's holding on to that 'yet', hoping it'll become something else.]
no subject
Slowly, he nods.]
As you like it, Sir.
[And he speeds up, purposeful, moving to intercept them.
He's holding on to that 'yet', hoping it'll become something else.]