(he knows. deep down, he knows this is just how klavier is. he's kind, even overly generous at times, willing to throw out any offer or suggestion to make apollo smile just that little bit more. he understands more than anyone, just how giving and loving klavier was. in no small part, to apollo specifically.
but there's that other little part of apollo, the one that tries so hard to defend was little dignity he seems to have left these days. why he even bothers, he's not quite sure. after all, someone always comes along trying to tear it down, unintentionally or no. his self-confidence was already near the breaking point most days, and while he should be flattered, thrilled klavier made such an offer so calmly, he can't help but feel... wounded. angrily so. as if someone just took a stab to the last remaining bit of pride he had.
the fact that he needed so much help just to get by, just to make it to the next day. apollo was more angry at himself than klavier's well-intentioned offer. the fact that he can't even keep this much of his life together. it's almost laughable.
apollo stops pacing, ramblings cut to a halt as he turns and stares at klavier as the words sink in. and though he doesn't want his face to ever look at klavier angrily, he can't help a slight glare form as the words play on repeat like a shitty lyric.) I don't need handouts, Prosecutor Gavin.
(it was still habit, even after these months of dating, to continue calling klavier by his title. it never meant he was angry or hurt. though this time... it may come off that way.)
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but there's that other little part of apollo, the one that tries so hard to defend was little dignity he seems to have left these days. why he even bothers, he's not quite sure. after all, someone always comes along trying to tear it down, unintentionally or no. his self-confidence was already near the breaking point most days, and while he should be flattered, thrilled klavier made such an offer so calmly, he can't help but feel... wounded. angrily so. as if someone just took a stab to the last remaining bit of pride he had.
the fact that he needed so much help just to get by, just to make it to the next day. apollo was more angry at himself than klavier's well-intentioned offer. the fact that he can't even keep this much of his life together. it's almost laughable.
apollo stops pacing, ramblings cut to a halt as he turns and stares at klavier as the words sink in. and though he doesn't want his face to ever look at klavier angrily, he can't help a slight glare form as the words play on repeat like a shitty lyric.) I don't need handouts, Prosecutor Gavin.
(it was still habit, even after these months of dating, to continue calling klavier by his title. it never meant he was angry or hurt. though this time... it may come off that way.)