Of course, Helotes would have no words, simply a face that wouldn't let the hate that surely lived within spew from his lips. No, his Hydra brother was too good for that, too goddamn special; he was above the meaner things in life, the ones that reminded you what you truly were underneath all the facade. Columbine was positively twitching with anger, begging Helotes to spit words at him and give the dark man a reason to strike him across the face and remind him what true pain felt like. But his younger brother beat him to the punch, both literally and figuratively; before the darker man could move out of the way, a fist struck his face. It did not draw blood, merely a brief moment of silence in which Columbine was jerked back to the past.
It was like his father, all over again. Like the father he had so desperately tried to love, the father whose affections he sought. Columbine had not been adequately struck since then, and Helotes' fist on his face felt all too much like Kerberos'. For the briefest of moments, if Helotes had been looking, he would see a flicker of the boy Columbine once was - innocent and scared, confused in the face of something stronger than him that reveled in his pain. Red eyes, so typically glazed over with anger and resentment, were momentarily hurt and confused - there was a sadness in them that suddenly fit the dark man's face, as if that was the true reason for everything that had happened.
But the moment passed, and Columbine hated Helotes even more for it. A deep, primal roar ripped from his throat, and the Hastasti barely recognized it as his own. The familiar loathing face that he so often wore was back, and crimson eyes burned as he, too, threw his fist into Helotes' face. Vea, hermano? No mejor que yo, no es mejor que Kerberos. Déjese creo que hice esto, pero recuerde - que lanzó el primer puñetazo. Usted provocó esto. The larger man had danced away and slunk into his fighting crouch. If Helotes came at him, he would be ready, and he would tear his little brother's fucking scar to tiny, irrecognizable pieces. Then he might begin to understand the torment Columbine had suffered. For them!
It hadn't been worth it.
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