[There was a fickle, fragile moment of pride, a little preening because that compliment was earned, dammit. He did bust his ass, even if his default always reverted back to the rocket science that was swish swish stab. The fact that they weren't doing it today deflated him a little, and he rolled his eyes.]
Ugh, if this is that unarmed hand-to-hand combat shit again, I told you, I just won't get disarm--
[But the words died as if each syllable was shot, murdered on his lips, when he saw that knife. It caught the light, hypnotizing in a way, and Tucker couldn't drag his eyes away, as if doing so would make the blade find a home somewhere in through his skin and in his gut. He could taste his heart as it tried to crawl up his throat, and the hands at his sides twitched before he crossed his arms so his fingers could grip them, tight, tight, tight.
It's cool. It's Wash. It's not Fel--]
Um, I don't do knives. [He dragged his gaze - a little more wide, a little more worried than he knew - up to Wash's face.] We already got a knife guy: you. I'm sword guy. No reason to fuck up a perfect set of roles.
no subject
Ugh, if this is that unarmed hand-to-hand combat shit again, I told you, I just won't get disarm--
[But the words died as if each syllable was shot, murdered on his lips, when he saw that knife. It caught the light, hypnotizing in a way, and Tucker couldn't drag his eyes away, as if doing so would make the blade find a home somewhere in through his skin and in his gut. He could taste his heart as it tried to crawl up his throat, and the hands at his sides twitched before he crossed his arms so his fingers could grip them, tight, tight, tight.
It's cool. It's Wash. It's not Fel--]
Um, I don't do knives. [He dragged his gaze - a little more wide, a little more worried than he knew - up to Wash's face.] We already got a knife guy: you. I'm sword guy. No reason to fuck up a perfect set of roles.