There’s also the fact that pretty much every other Strider fucking sucks. You’ve got a firm belief in that because wow it’s true. Let’s not go through that right now because you’ve already given your opinions before.
Exactly. It’s kind of making you nervous how chilled out he is. Which is ridiculous because it’s not like he’s trying to make you nervous like this. You’re bringing this upon yourself, really. Still, this is probably why you’re averting your eyes every few seconds. Good thing he can’t actually tell you’re doing that.
Well. Sure you loved him. Deep down. Deep deep deep down. Sadly, the hatred has sort of been more.. present than the love. If there’s any love to feel right now, you’re sure as hell not feeling it. You sigh and back yourself up against a wall so you can slouch against it. It’s getting kind of hard to stand.
You’re not really looking at him, and that’s pretty obvious since you’re looking around the apartment instead, so you don’t catch the almost mocking gesture. Not that you would’ve even cared. “If I was a girl I probably could’ve avoided getting beat up in school. But I didn’t.” You shrug. “Oh well.” That was more of a general statement rather than you trying to guilt trip him. Please. You beat somebody up with a baseball bat. You’re not exactly trying to play innocent at all.
You look over to him and you almost sort of frown, but you almost sort of don’t. “How the hell would I know? This is literally the last place I would ever think of coming to.” You stuff your hands in your pockets and look away to look around. “Doesn’t seem to have changed at all, though.”
If you could tell, it's probably something you would point out to him. Like he wasn't already aware. Telling D what a pussy he was was, once again, one hundred percent easier than complimenting the badass robot hand. Brotherly love, right?
It wouldn't take a detective--or a person with emotions properly in check, even--to figure that one out. Still, it is your fault that hating you is a lot easier than loving you. Maybe if your priorities had been in check--family before drugs and producing or some shit like that--none of this would have happened. Yeah, it definitely wouldn't have happened, because then nobody would have had a reason to slit your throat.
About that. Another thing you were proud of--the baseball bat beating, not the bullying, because that really could have gone a lot better. Like D could have acted with a lot more force a lot faster. Or maybe you could have done something. But that'd be ridiculous. Helping your brother out with a bunch of dumb kids. He clearly could take care of himself without being beat the fuck up.
Oh, really now? Nice, specific face. Easy to read because it's the kind of blip on the radar--one of, like...very few--that you would display. "That's too bad. We've got some real catchin' up to do. Like where the eye came from. Are you gettin' bullied again, big guy? Kidnapped for zombie experimenting?" The comment about him hardly wanting to be here isn't that surprising. Neither would you, if you had spent so much time here--which you were about to do, anyways. Karma or something.
"No shit it hasn't."
