arvo digs through a first-aid kit, for alcohol wipes, bandages, and whatever else needed to doctor mitch's (thankfully minor) wounds. huffing gently, he continues to scold the other for what he did, after all, there was no reason to deck someone, especially for his sake.
" i had it under control, mitch. you didn't have to hit them, i know they were being kind of a jerk, but they still didn't deserve that! " " what's gotten into you? i mean, i thought you hated me, anyway. shouldn't you be happy someone is giving me shit about stuff? "
a sigh. he finally finds what he's looking for, ripping opening the paper packaging, beginning to gently clean one of the scratches mitch bares.
" i don't get you, sometimes. i really don't. "
// @medicinelost, ericson au!
sure, mitch hadn't had to beat up that bastard, but...
( go near arvo again, pull that shit one more time, and i'll kick the shit out of you, y'hear me? )
he'd warned them, and that was nice enough, he thought. mitch wasn't one for warnings, he was more of an action- based guy, but he figured this once, just this once, he could be kind enough to extend a sort of disclaimer.
of course, when it was disregarded, when his ever-so-kind warning was ignored, what else was there to do? he was nothing, if not a man of his word. the split skin and bruised knuckles attested to that, as did his bloody lip and scraped cheek.
scowling, knee bouncing, mitch holds (relatively) still arvo begins to clean one of his new scratches. the ball of hot anger still burns in his chest, his hands aching from where he had driven them over and over into that asshole, and the nervous energy still radiates its way through his body.
distracted by the sting of the disinfectant, it takes mitch a moment to register what arvo said. 'i thought you hated me,' arvo had said, and confusion overtakes the residual anger. hate arvo? sure, mitch gave arvo a hard time over silly things, poking fun here and there, and the two had something of a 'rivalry' going on -- but hate arvo?
" i don't hate you? " the words tumble out before mitch can stop them, confusion colouring his tone. " shit, what gave y'that idea? "
mitch stops bouncing his leg, studying arvo's face before he speaks again. " look-- would i hang around ya so much if i didn't, i dunno, not dislike you? fuck no. so, uh... i don't hate you. at all. " hands resting on his thighs, mitch's gaze shifts off to the side, and he chews his lower lip. (a mistake, in retrospect: a split lip hurts like a bitch.) " and i don't like that fucker fucking with you. so...yeah. that's-- that's all. " (god, he's going soft. giving warnings, explaining himself... what's next?!)