Now Fawke knows exactly how it feels to be in Diego’s position. At least, a variation of it.He’s never punched someone the second he walked through the door and split their lip open. Andreas has had words by the look of it then. A slightly pointed tongue pokes at where the split in his lip had sat before Hex had closed it up using the Light as the Hunter talks. Amber hues take Diego in with something akin to a smug grin sat on the Warlock’s freckled features.
He waits until Diego is finished, mirroring his body language almost exactly and resting his weight over one leg, cocking an eyebrow in the process. Fawke doesn’t claim to be a cruel person in any stretch of the imagination, but this? This is too good to pass up. An apology? From none other than Diego? This has got to be a dream of some kind. A nightmare maybe? What does this mean for the rest of their interactions? Honestly, Fawke doesn’t care as long as he gets to lord this over the Hunter for years to come.
“I’m sorry? Could ya say that again ta my other side? Ya see. I’m blind on that one, couldn’t quite pick that up from over there.”
He'd tried. He'd really, really, really tried. All those times Andreas told him that he'd misjudged Fawke, his brother begging him to please just give the man a chance. He loved him!!!! Andreas said. He was so good to him!!!!!!!!
But no, Fawke had to go and be a dick about it. At first, Diego didn't really process the words that were said. But when he did, the expression on his face slowly and visibly turned sour. He scoffed, his arms uncrossing and fists clenching at his side. It took everything in his power not to lash out physically -- to hit or shove Fawke, at least.
"Either you’re a dumbass and mean deaf of you're just being a fucking asshole." Diego hissed at him. He hates this. Why did he even think this was worth it? He turns around, throwing his hands up dramatically. "You know what? Forget it!”
