Anger, scorn, even avoidance, those are things Lawrence can handle no problem at all. But now she's laughing at him, and it pisses him right off instantly. He stands straight – even leans back just a hair – and grits his teeth. She thinks this is funny?! His nostrils flare and his mechanical fist grinds as it clenches to its limits.
But then. Then.
"Why do you keep calling him that?!" he shouts, throwing his arm and open palm off in another direction as if to point to someone who isn't here. He brings his arm back and points an accusatory metal finger at her, then hisses through his teeth, "You can laugh at me, you could talk shit about me if you wanted, and I could sit by with my mouth MOSTLY shut about that, but I am NOT gonna stand around and listen to you call my brother by a name he hates one more time! It's bad enough his own family doesn't respect him enough to call him by the name he chose, but now his friends don't either?!"
His hand clenches into a fist and he drops it to his side. "I'm not gonna let you deny him all the things he is, no matter how dishonorable you think they are. I don't want to hear how it's so distasteful to civilized blood to be a filthy worgen, and how being undead might as well mean he's not part of the family anymore. I shouldn't even have let you say it in the first place, and I regret not standing up for him earlier, but SOMEHOW he considers you his friend and I didn't wanna get in the way of that. And here you are. Laughing and talking about how easy he'd be to throw out of your life."
He stops himself to breathe, winded by his shouting and red in the face. He can't go on screaming, as much as he wishes he could. Instead he glares at her bitterly and wonders aloud, "Why the fuck did he invite you, anyway? Someone so... fucking contemptuous of everything he is? Was it pity for you? Guilt? Or doesn't he know how much you disrespect him when he's not around?"
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But then. Then.
"Why do you keep calling him that?!" he shouts, throwing his arm and open palm off in another direction as if to point to someone who isn't here. He brings his arm back and points an accusatory metal finger at her, then hisses through his teeth, "You can laugh at me, you could talk shit about me if you wanted, and I could sit by with my mouth MOSTLY shut about that, but I am NOT gonna stand around and listen to you call my brother by a name he hates one more time! It's bad enough his own family doesn't respect him enough to call him by the name he chose, but now his friends don't either?!"
His hand clenches into a fist and he drops it to his side. "I'm not gonna let you deny him all the things he is, no matter how dishonorable you think they are. I don't want to hear how it's so distasteful to civilized blood to be a filthy worgen, and how being undead might as well mean he's not part of the family anymore. I shouldn't even have let you say it in the first place, and I regret not standing up for him earlier, but SOMEHOW he considers you his friend and I didn't wanna get in the way of that. And here you are. Laughing and talking about how easy he'd be to throw out of your life."
He stops himself to breathe, winded by his shouting and red in the face. He can't go on screaming, as much as he wishes he could. Instead he glares at her bitterly and wonders aloud, "Why the fuck did he invite you, anyway? Someone so... fucking contemptuous of everything he is? Was it pity for you? Guilt? Or doesn't he know how much you disrespect him when he's not around?"