unable to respond to the accusation of LYING he is suddenly pummeled by the mirroring figure, tackling him to the ground where he’s pinned down unwillingly. he lets out a shriek, kicking his legs and collecting a fistful of tucker’s hair in his fingers however they slip away as he’s flipped to his stomach. to his dismay his shirt is jerked upwards, causing him to cringe as the cloth catches on a feather and wrenches it out of the pit where it grew. wasn’t a BIG DEAL, knew that it would grow back though it does make his eyes water ( unsure whether its from the slight pinch or the horror of having his wings in plain sight. ) 

“ GET OFF !! ” his voice turns ANGRY, gravelly tone matching the dirt in his hair and the stone under his skin. he twists and grabs tucker by the collar to yank him off of his body, tossing him to his side so he can shuffle to a sitting position. he curls his knees close to his chest, hugging them with arms wrapped tightly ( wings even tighter ). “ not an angel, retard. ” childish tone wavers, wants to cry or SCREAM but instead he settles on glaring at tucker. 

❛      NO!      ❜       petulant as ever, volatile as ever. tucker turns sour as he’s pushed away. HATES BEING BULLIED! yeah, what a bully michael is. if the siren isn’t getting his way, people are at fault, people must suffer his warped pride. his eyes narrow on the other, a piercing gaze, hollow, searching for soul, wants to twist it until he bleeds. there’s another gasp, offended this time.      

❛      i ain’t no retard! yer a … a fucktard, ya honky!     ❜       oh boy, not happy about that.       

he crawls closer in a flash, moody rumble in throat. he becomes stiff once more, hands and knees, glowering.      ❛      ya don’t even know wha'ya are?! yer the retard, i’m tellin’ ya, yer an angel. got wings, stupid! don’t tell me yer some nasty infuhdel?! waste o’a purdy ass! i oughta skin ya … fuck ya first. mm … maybe after, too.      ❜