A guffaw escaped from him as he rose from his seat. This guy needed to phrase things better, but he had already made a terrible decision. Or was it he who made the terrible decision? He’d find out soon enough.
“If you’re obligated to wipe shit off, then you’d better start wiping.”
Was he actually going to fight this guy? Most likely not, but he hoped the act would get the guy to back off.
———HIS INTEREST WAS SOON TURNING TO PLAIN IRRITATION. over a mere accident, the situation had escalated and the scene had been made. now, all that mattered to him was muzzling a dog off its a leash.
❝ your next actions should be chosen wisely. ❞ he approached the man, eyes cold and expression devoid of any indication he would hesitate. face to face now, his only saving grace was the stage. as much as he hated causing trouble in public, the area was relatively empty.
❝ now, either walk away or hit me if you wish to die. ❞
“… instead of making pointless threats and ruining my only set of clothes in this country with my coffee, you could just strike me down with whatever you’ve got for looking, right here and right now.”
———HIS GAZE REMAINED EVEN. though he considered himself a fair man, the fact that the other seemed keen on a fight despite his best efforts… that intrigued him.
❝ there is no punishment for looking, per se. it’s more the fact i’m obligated to wipe shit off my shoe if i step on it and it sticks. ❞
———❝ CAREFUL, MY FRIEND. there are worse things than a spilled drink, and they come when one doesn’t know how to look the other way… ❞
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