“I'm fine” was his immediate response, spoken with no thought, for that's all the other wanted; a reassurance that he could look after himself, that Strel could leave him be and be done with him. A hand grasped his chin, forcing his head up, green eyes widened in panic and a need to run filled him, suddenly feeling cornered and anxious, a breath catching in his throat before he calmed himself, eyes settling looking to the left and right but refusing to catch the red heads eyes.
He didn't want this, he didn't want to hear this lecture or have someone point out his failures. God, he didn't know anything about what to do with his life and he didn't need someone meddlesome elder to point that out to him. “What's that got-ta do wid anything” he muffled out, chin still in the other hands, mind racing as it became oh-so-apparent he was quite clearly busted and yet, he still couldn't make his eyes look to the others. Hands unfurled from his side and it occurred to him that he could probably remove the others hand if he tried hard enough, even lacking his superior build of which he had had their last encounter he was stubborn and would have his way if he choose to deny the small contact.
Even as the thought occurred to him he dismissed it, why was a mystery to him, all he knew is that he didn't mind the red heads touch too much and that it was tolerable, for now. Strelein's words on the other hand both hurt and confused him, prying into emotional wounds he hadn't began to wrap his head around just yet. Blinking slowly he smothered all urges to squirm in embarrassment, telling himself there was no way that Strel would know what had transpired between himself and the other male; only they had been present and he didn't think Sebastian had been telling the world. Changing the direction his thoughts were drifting in the lad tried to make sense of his uncles words, seeing no fault in Sebastian wanting to befriend his uncle nor the fact the fox male apparently liked to paint. “And why is him wanting to know more about you an issue?” his voice was innocent, genuinely not comprehending the others vague opinion of Sebastian. “And his paintings, what's wrong with them?” having not seen them the Nishant was curious somewhat about why his uncle had grouped the paintings with the previous comment.
Flinching a little as the hand was removed from his chin and onto his shoulder he once more accepted the small contact, eyes darting down to the hand and then to the floor now that his head was free once more. “How many times do I have to say i'm fine?”
Photo courtesy of Khevyel
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