SILENCE HANGS HEAVILY BETWEEN THE TWO, a suffocating sort that screamed “ wrong, wrong, wrong! his posture is stiff, shoulders straight; spine taut. lips forming a foul grimace, & his palms forming tight fists. well-kept nails had already engraved furious sanguine crescents into sensitive dermis. (now none of this was james' fault. but currently there was no one else to lash out at.) no one that could handle his anger quite like james could. @compunctions finally says: ❝ are you really okay? ❞ inquiry searing through what seemed like a half an hour of silence. aleksander had not vocalized any mention of his upset for fear of being unable to rein himself back in. after all, it took mere seconds to unravel what years of practiced facade had created.
through grit teeth, ❝ i am fine, james. ❞ i have to be. but he dares not look at him now, averting his gaze to something in the distance. a tree maybe? no something else, but it was less in focus. made blurry by his heart rate, and the lack of calm in his breathing. aleksander forces himself to take a long inhalation in, slowly exhaling to hopefully calm his ample frustration.
would he be seen as weak for letting something like this affect him so? being told that clubs, and social situations were useless attachments by his mother? maybe he took it too personally, but a good future leader needed to be well liked she'd say. not personable, not knowable. resigning to that gaze he feels bearing into him. ❝ it's my mother again. she doesn't like you much. nor anyone i get close to really. ❞