[ hawk's eyes are an ocean right now, sparkling bright in the wash of the late afternoon sun. if everything he was saying wasn't so goddamn irritating, embry would be asking him along for the ride to some overpriced cafe that serves all day mimosas so he can decompress from the day's bullshit. ]
No. [ he ignores the blatant accusation that he's lying about talking to his mother. he is. but vivienne taught him how to lie, and one text or even a single word over the phone would be enough to get her on board with his story. ] No, I'm not seeing your medic, because I don't trust whoever you have waiting in your office, just like I don't trust your security, just like I don't trust anyone on your goddamn lot. I don't want to be poked around at anymore than I already have been today, and I don't want to answer anymore fucking questions.
[ there, it's out. the ketamine thins his filter, but he thinks he has a pretty good leg to stand on here after what he just went through, and he's not going to roll over just because hawk has sparkly ocean eyes and hands that look like they could press bruises into his skin — artfully, of course. ]
You can look me over. [ he pushes his sunglasses into his hair, tilting his bruised cheekbone into the yellow sunlight. ] He hit me right here, with his knuckles. It hurt, and I'm gonna have a black eye tomorrow.
[ the sticky taste of repulsion catches in his throat as he lifts the hem of his sweater, revealing several inches of his lean, muscled abs, his body built with all the elegance of a greek statue. ]
He was touching me here — [ he runs the back of his fingers along his ribs. ] When I woke up. He had all his clothes on, but I didn't.
[ he could say more. how it'd terrified him, how he wanted to quit the movie then and there just so he could tear out of the lot and never look back. he doesn't want that now — he wants this role and this movie more than anything, more than even his goddamn self-respect which was lost exactly today when someone broke into his trailer and now he's standing here high again, but there's an argument to be made that it was lost way before now. maybe he never had any to begin with.
he looks at hawk, trying to gauge his reaction. after a moment — ]
Am I off the movie if I don't see your medic? [ he asks this more calmly, his anger burning away with the waning sunlight. he's just tired now, and belatedly realizing he's stepped over a line without a way to backpedal. a spark of resentment flares up in his gaze before he lowers his glasses down again. ] If it's that or firing me, I'll just close my eyes and do it.
no subject
No. [ he ignores the blatant accusation that he's lying about talking to his mother. he is. but vivienne taught him how to lie, and one text or even a single word over the phone would be enough to get her on board with his story. ] No, I'm not seeing your medic, because I don't trust whoever you have waiting in your office, just like I don't trust your security, just like I don't trust anyone on your goddamn lot. I don't want to be poked around at anymore than I already have been today, and I don't want to answer anymore fucking questions.
[ there, it's out. the ketamine thins his filter, but he thinks he has a pretty good leg to stand on here after what he just went through, and he's not going to roll over just because hawk has sparkly ocean eyes and hands that look like they could press bruises into his skin — artfully, of course. ]
You can look me over. [ he pushes his sunglasses into his hair, tilting his bruised cheekbone into the yellow sunlight. ] He hit me right here, with his knuckles. It hurt, and I'm gonna have a black eye tomorrow.
[ the sticky taste of repulsion catches in his throat as he lifts the hem of his sweater, revealing several inches of his lean, muscled abs, his body built with all the elegance of a greek statue. ]
He was touching me here — [ he runs the back of his fingers along his ribs. ] When I woke up. He had all his clothes on, but I didn't.
[ he could say more. how it'd terrified him, how he wanted to quit the movie then and there just so he could tear out of the lot and never look back. he doesn't want that now — he wants this role and this movie more than anything, more than even his goddamn self-respect which was lost exactly today when someone broke into his trailer and now he's standing here high again, but there's an argument to be made that it was lost way before now. maybe he never had any to begin with.
he looks at hawk, trying to gauge his reaction. after a moment — ]
Am I off the movie if I don't see your medic? [ he asks this more calmly, his anger burning away with the waning sunlight. he's just tired now, and belatedly realizing he's stepped over a line without a way to backpedal. a spark of resentment flares up in his gaze before he lowers his glasses down again. ] If it's that or firing me, I'll just close my eyes and do it.