God, why does he have to be gentle about it? It's a lot easier to be prickly and pretend nothing's wrong than it is to acknowledge what happened. His lips curl, teeth grit behind them as the chance to just brush everything off slips through his fingers like sand. Well, technically he still could, but it would be that much emptier when his ancestor is playing this route.
"Ugh, just stop," he grumps, because of course he refuses to fold entirely. "Don't give me that delicate handling like I'm made of glass and the wrong touch is going to shatter me into an emotionally devastated heap of shards. I'm fine, I'll be fine, and your stupid clown is your own business." His arms fold tight over his chest. "I was Gamzee's moirail for about a sweep, when he dumped me for his stupid clown cult, and went on to be the worst kind of frothy nookhole to one of my friends. That's all there is to say about it."
no subject
"Ugh, just stop," he grumps, because of course he refuses to fold entirely. "Don't give me that delicate handling like I'm made of glass and the wrong touch is going to shatter me into an emotionally devastated heap of shards. I'm fine, I'll be fine, and your stupid clown is your own business." His arms fold tight over his chest. "I was Gamzee's moirail for about a sweep, when he dumped me for his stupid clown cult, and went on to be the worst kind of frothy nookhole to one of my friends. That's all there is to say about it."