[Eyes search Hank, almost too long, almost wishing for him to say something in return. And suddenly the time presses forward again, and he's pushed away; Connor has to balance himself by pressing his other hand onto the floor, and Hank's standing up. Angry, he thinks, but not quite. Something else, that disgust, wrapped up in a nebulous feeling else he can't pin down.]
Not just your shin.
[If Hank looks away, even for a second, Connor brings up a hand to rub at his eyes. It's the second time he feels the sting of something at their corners, blinking it away back to normalcy, the emotions too poignant and sharp to not create some kind of unwanted, physical reaction. He shakes his head, sets his jaw, and stands.]
That's not what I mean. And I'm here to aid you, if that's... what you want.
[Are you okay?, meaning far more than just how he felt after he tripped.]
no subject
Not just your shin.
[If Hank looks away, even for a second, Connor brings up a hand to rub at his eyes. It's the second time he feels the sting of something at their corners, blinking it away back to normalcy, the emotions too poignant and sharp to not create some kind of unwanted, physical reaction. He shakes his head, sets his jaw, and stands.]
That's not what I mean. And I'm here to aid you, if that's... what you want.
[Are you okay?, meaning far more than just how he felt after he tripped.]