icarus.
irony, n.
a situation in which contrast and events you thought not likely become key, usually resulting in humor, though can lead to pain and sorrow in other stories.
Hatred is a vile emotion that Jaune tries to avoid, he really, really does-- and he swears on his mother he does, because he treats the thought of 'strangers are friends you haven't met yet', as a sort of moral code. It's hard, though, it's hard when strangers aren't strangers and they didn't become a friend; they're so full of hatred that it seeps from the air around them and it's like breathing fire into your lungs, as if it might set you aflame from the inside with the same pain and anger.
Cardin Winchester is the name of such a source of pure animosity, a cruelness in the fact that he abuses his brawn for the sake of asserting himself, taunting and hurting, and -- in this particular moment -- pulling on Jaune's antlers. It's nothing short of infuriating, and not necessarily the worst Cardin's done to him, but it's annoying and it makes his head ache every time the taller boy yanks on the boned horns.
He groans, hands clasping around the rougher palm against his head and pulling on it; it's futile, but he attempts with just that, until he digs his nails into the skin when his head starts to burn and throb because he can't continue to put with this, not today, not fifteen minutes until his next class and the threat of one of the worst headaches he's ever had creeping up along the back of his skull and making his temples pulse. Smaller fingers dug under rough palms, he continues to yank on the hands clasped around his horns, prying some of Cardin's grasp away, though not completely.
"Let go, Cardin!"