@diabotsis
There was no transition between Ghetsis' calm approach, listening to Colress prattle on far-too-arrogantly about WHATEVER, and the moment he grabbed that man's jaw in a vice grip. His gloved thumb stuck into his mouth as if he were halfway tempted to tear out his tongue or break the jaw off its hinge. He was always so in-control of himself. The majority of the time when you expected him to strike, he wouldn't. Instead, he'd leave you in suspense until you fell into the trap of expecting a placid response. Such as now. All of the rage from piled-up offences made itself abundantly clear in this moment; The moment after the initial strike where Colress was forced into silence and pinned with one piercing red eye. "I don't want to hear from you again until I ask for you." A hissing so quiet, a warning. A real warning. Tension in everything he did, said, presented as. Like any wrong move could snap his line. Then, as suddenly as it came, Ghetsis relaxed. His shoulders loosened, his half-concealed sneer warmed into an unbothered grin. The last thing to change was his grip, which lingered with intent before finally loosening. Loosening until the point he simply held his hand against Colress' face, and after another moment of hesitation, he patted his cheek patronisingly.
He was ready to make a comment. Any comment, really - be it vague, sarcastic, openly antagonistic. Test the waters--- test his luck, push it everyday a little more, as if he knew that, all things considered, he was safe. The second his heart stops beating, someone would come and check why; and when later on they find his body, surely they'll understand that this wasn't an accident.
He was feeling safe.
Safe enough to not expect the rush of genuine fear when he was forced to face the consequences of his actions and words of the past few weeks. Months. Of every single year he spent, sometimes more obviously than others, making fun of Ghetsis.
In a rare moment of pure, unmasked terror, all Colress could do was standing there - frozen, unable to breathe, unsure if that was because of the aformentioned fear or the grip on his jaw. Or the man's finger inside his mouth, an invasion he didn't predict.
Couldn't predict.
Wide eyes stare at the other's, his arms half-lifted in an abandoned attempt at holding onto the taller's wrist. It's as if his own heart stopped beating for the long seconds in which the leader of Team Plasma reminded him why he was recognized as a menace to being with, pumping only not when he was released, but when he recieved that pat. And, oh. As much as he hated to admit it, Colress knew that the only reason his legs didn't give up on him right there and then it was because of the prosthetic one, strong enough to keep up the other as it threatened to buckle.
"...--"
Biting his tongue before he could answer, the doctor just. Sighed. Slowly, breathing in and then out, lowering his gaze and taking a trembling step back.
He'd rather die on the spot than answering with a yes sir, so hopefully silence will be a good enough answer.
