So still.

Tic's body immediately tensed with a wave of ice-cold fear; his back pressed against the chair, legs stiff upon the floor. His hands clenched hard onto the edge of the seat as he reflexively turned away his head. The man's presence was so overwhelming now; so close to him, so full of an anger he could feel. He suppressed the feelings in his eyes, the swelling inside his chest. His breathing stuttered as the courage he had built began to fade, but he still kept his violet glance away from the orange gaze.

He nearly closed his eyes with remorse as he felt his thoughts rue him for being so audacious; so full of blind bravery, convinced that he had actually accomplished something in refusing Larkin's orders. No, the man's subduing gaze would be used if he had resisted. He had just been so sure that maybe, maybe he was helping his people; maybe he wasn't so weak, so easy to give in. But he was still helpless, vulnerable; trapped underneath the glare that wanted to take him into its grasp and choke him.

But, still, he wasn't broken yet. Larkin did not have full control. He could still protect his people, he thought, though he did not know for how long. Still, he kept his eyes away from the menacing orange pair. His chest heaved softly, brown hair wisped upon his forehead. His eyes were still watering, unstoppable in their sorrow. But he couldn't do it; he couldn't give in.

There was a long pause before anything happened. The fire cracked and hissed, making itself known through the grim silence. A gloved hand was removed from the chair's arm, and Tic felt it reach to turn his head. He took a deep breath and held it, letting his eyes fall shut, and tighten.