}} - @erro-venator
Individuals filed from the room, leaving the round, still glowing table as they murmured hushed worries. Thomas spoke true as he could, his plans still laid out on the surface before him, giving them the best insight he could on what the rebellion was to face. They’d never seen what he had... they never... felt what that darkness could really do. Speaking of it opened a wound, painful and oozing. And to see the guard, Ezra’s face, to hear his poisonous opposition... It burned behind Thomas’ eyes.
The corners of them stung, tears fought back felt more like bits of glass. His vision blurred, and his fists were clenched, the last voices of those who still lingered falling on deaf ears as they continued to spill from the area. How... how dare he? A renewed bravery rose, his heart pounding in his chest as Thomas turned on a heel, facing the swinging door he’d seen Ezra leave from. He followed quickly, storming down the hallway and weaving through the mix of fighters and leaders.
The door to Ezra’s room was just closing when Thomas caught it, slipping in just as it closed with a faint hiss. He glared at the pilot’s back, arms folded across his chest and his stance utterly defiant.
“You.” He spat, face twisted into a scowl, prosthetic eye glinting a harsh yellow in the dimness of the room.
“When are you going to stop with the trap nonsense? What more do I have to do to prove to you I’m not trying to trick anyone?”