'Calm. Yeah. Sure.' His voice is low, bitter even. And his fingers curl round the edge of the surface he's leaning on, grasping until the knuckles are white.
He doesn't look up, just tries to calm down for real. It's not Random's fault, he doesn't deserve to have it taken out on him.
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He doesn't look up, just tries to calm down for real. It's not Random's fault, he doesn't deserve to have it taken out on him.