[ That makes him twitch again, getting angry. He swallows it down. Digs his nails into his arms, hard. Forcing himself to hold still, like he's getting dressed down by a superior officer, and wait it out. He won't pace like he wants to, he'll hold still like a goddamn soldier and take what comes. ]
You don't know anything about me.
[ He would have remembered telling someone. He would have remembered that, no matter how waste he was. Sharkface is sure of that until, quite suddenly, he isn't. No, no, no. What did he fucking say? He remembers fighting, remembers Godric catching his wrist and flipping him onto his back like it was nothing. Remembers thinking about what might happen if he took the knife out of his sleeve and dragged it across his hand, drawing blood; remembers thinking that might finally get under Godric's skin, but there'd been part of him that had stopped. That had known better.
Don't act crazy. Don't act like a psychopath. Breathe, asshole.
He breathes. ]
You don't know a goddamn thing.
[ But he sounds less sure the second time, and that cannot possibly end well. ]
no subject
You don't know anything about me.
[ He would have remembered telling someone. He would have remembered that, no matter how waste he was. Sharkface is sure of that until, quite suddenly, he isn't. No, no, no. What did he fucking say? He remembers fighting, remembers Godric catching his wrist and flipping him onto his back like it was nothing. Remembers thinking about what might happen if he took the knife out of his sleeve and dragged it across his hand, drawing blood; remembers thinking that might finally get under Godric's skin, but there'd been part of him that had stopped. That had known better.
Don't act crazy. Don't act like a psychopath. Breathe, asshole.
He breathes. ]
You don't know a goddamn thing.
[ But he sounds less sure the second time, and that cannot possibly end well. ]