[ The sound of small footsteps fading at least brings some sense of relief to Dokja, though that doesn't last for very long before fingers tangle in his hair and yank up. His expression twists in pain, eyes jerking closed for a moment as a sharp hiss escapes him, but that's ultimately cut short when another hand wraps around his throat.
Wait a minute. Another hand?
He only has a second to think about it, his own hands letting go of Gen's torso to grab at the hand on his neck. His fingers curl in, nails hoping to dig into flesh, but it's the feeling of metal that meets him from underneath that glove, and doesn't that just get Dokja to still in shock. His eyes fly open, gaze darting down to the flash of metal where skin should be. The fight in him instantly dies, and he barely catches the words Gen snaps at him, doesn't even look at the boy with his sharp eyes or his snarl. Dokja's attention is entirely caught by this new development.
A result of what he'd done, the reminder always prominent when he'd catch sight of Gen with his one loose sleeve around Springstar. But this? How? When? The questions are endless and he finds he can't voice any of them, mouth gone dry. He thinks of the boy who had run off to safety, his red rimmed eyes and attempts to act like everything was fine, and just who exactly was Dokja trying to comfort when he'd done... this.
He winces at the grip on his throat as he tries to wedge his fingers into a gap, any gap at all, but beyond that comes the crashing wave of guilt, of regret, as it slams into their Aspect connection. ]
No, that's not... [ He stops to drag in a ragged breath, eyes shaking as he finally pulls them away from the gleam of metal to meet Gen's gaze. ] ―I'm sorry.
no subject
Wait a minute. Another hand?
He only has a second to think about it, his own hands letting go of Gen's torso to grab at the hand on his neck. His fingers curl in, nails hoping to dig into flesh, but it's the feeling of metal that meets him from underneath that glove, and doesn't that just get Dokja to still in shock. His eyes fly open, gaze darting down to the flash of metal where skin should be. The fight in him instantly dies, and he barely catches the words Gen snaps at him, doesn't even look at the boy with his sharp eyes or his snarl. Dokja's attention is entirely caught by this new development.
A result of what he'd done, the reminder always prominent when he'd catch sight of Gen with his one loose sleeve around Springstar. But this? How? When? The questions are endless and he finds he can't voice any of them, mouth gone dry. He thinks of the boy who had run off to safety, his red rimmed eyes and attempts to act like everything was fine, and just who exactly was Dokja trying to comfort when he'd done... this.
He winces at the grip on his throat as he tries to wedge his fingers into a gap, any gap at all, but beyond that comes the crashing wave of guilt, of regret, as it slams into their Aspect connection. ]
No, that's not... [ He stops to drag in a ragged breath, eyes shaking as he finally pulls them away from the gleam of metal to meet Gen's gaze. ] ―I'm sorry.