*:・ﾟ☆ continued ☽☉
EMOTIONS are running too high for him to have this conversation calmly. So they’re not having it. Breaking eye contact with a clenched jaw, he snaps the scarf off his neck, trembling hands taking Gyro’s with a delicate touch to wrap the gash in red cloth. Then he remembers that his friend is a doctor. Great. Now he looks foolish on top of out of control. His lip curls into a snarl and he steps away, but not far. Only to sit at the edge of a drop off, letting his legs dangle, chin resting on the handrail while he watches the derelict parking lot below.
Gyro is owed an explanation about how complicated his anger is. Everyone is dead. He doesn’t want to lose him too. His lack of control is a state of being they will all have to deal with. That in itself makes him angry because there are many ways to combat it and none are available here. Opening his mouth to Gyro right now will only bring forth poison. He’ll make things worse, so he digs in his hair until he pulls out his phone, goes to the first on his favorites lists, and listens. It doesn’t ring. It goes to voicemail.
“This is Jotaro. Leave a message.” BEEP.
⦑ All day I ask myself here “what would you have me do?” This isn’t what you would have ordered at all. You would have waited for it to play out because you’d have had faith in your friend’s abilities. I think... tonight is a sign that I’m not ready to come back to you yet. ⦒
Without looking at the screen he hangs up, stowing the phone in its hair nest.
@breakspiins
*:・ﾟ☆