anger flares behind eyes the moment he notices ---- all of half a second of calm before he is moving and positively seething. one hand comes down to brace against the arm of the wheelchair; knuckles already bruised but threatening to turn white, the other hand is more gentle despite how much anger actually radiates from him. fingers splay over a bruise he did not create, the pads chilled from his work in the kitchen. eyes burn as he searches flesh for answers, the silence pushing him to break it. “colton.”
there is no room for much discussion as he waits for an answer. someone had touched what wasn’t theirs and already he wants to see their blood, to be the one to cause it to spatter. possessiveness takes hold of all proper thinking as he carefully smooths his thumb over broken skin. someone was going to pay very dearly if he got his way. { @wingsonxfire }
