[ Oh, Carver thinks, and even with his thoughts running vicious and manic, there's a part of him that calculates. That tucks that information away for consideration later, for when he's calm enough to know what to do with it. Sometimes there are only split-second calculations. Sometimes, you just have to roll with things.
He tips his head back. He can't meet Gold's eyes. Has no idea whether the man's even looking at him. But it bares his throat just the same and that's either a threat or a promise, and even Carver can't decide which one he's swung toward.
It's that sort of moment. Changeable. ]
It's not.
[ This part, at least, isn't a lie. ]
It's because you're the one who came when I was hurt.
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He tips his head back. He can't meet Gold's eyes. Has no idea whether the man's even looking at him. But it bares his throat just the same and that's either a threat or a promise, and even Carver can't decide which one he's swung toward.
It's that sort of moment. Changeable. ]
It's not.
[ This part, at least, isn't a lie. ]
It's because you're the one who came when I was hurt.
[ Carver snorts. Bitter laughter. ]
Do whatever you want with that.