[ After Zuko steps in, he shuts the door quickly (the brisk breeze was enough to let in), leaning against it with unsurety. He hates admitting defeat, hates to show his weakness even if the situation is explainable.
Even if the situation is intensely personal and emotional. Gino's been raised to hold it in, because who's going to take pity on the son of a latent criminal? Who's going to assume his tears are from anything except for his mental instability? They're mostly right, he knows they are. Years of suppressing it all is choking him now, is making his hue cloud over and the numbers assigned to his mind go well beyond what was considered healthy.
Brow furrowing, he looks down at his hands, unable to make eye contact with the other boy just yet. There are images flickering in his peripheral and he doesn't trust his eyes. ]
approximately 4,000 years later
Even if the situation is intensely personal and emotional. Gino's been raised to hold it in, because who's going to take pity on the son of a latent criminal? Who's going to assume his tears are from anything except for his mental instability? They're mostly right, he knows they are. Years of suppressing it all is choking him now, is making his hue cloud over and the numbers assigned to his mind go well beyond what was considered healthy.
Brow furrowing, he looks down at his hands, unable to make eye contact with the other boy just yet. There are images flickering in his peripheral and he doesn't trust his eyes. ]
Do you think I made the right choice?
[ Or should I have died? ]