[ when nothing comes of it, dextera freezes. if she had berated him, that would be one thing—but she does nothing. she doesn’t force his head to the floor, nor does she tell him that it’s satisfactory and make him get up. there’s nothing but the heat of her glare, and that’s worse than a definitive answer either way. ]
…
[ his breath comes out in an anxious huff, but he decides that he doesn’t want a fight. his palms slide over the floor so that he can touch his forehead to the cool stone, and his form is all wrong but it’s obvious that he’s only doing the best he knows how.
he holds it until he can get his heart under control, the longest five seconds he’s ever spent, and then he picks himself up entirely. ]
no subject
…
[ his breath comes out in an anxious huff, but he decides that he doesn’t want a fight. his palms slide over the floor so that he can touch his forehead to the cool stone, and his form is all wrong but it’s obvious that he’s only doing the best he knows how.
he holds it until he can get his heart under control, the longest five seconds he’s ever spent, and then he picks himself up entirely. ]