[ fitz doesn't get a chance to step back before ward's in his space, and there's just a short, ineffective attempt to yank his hand out of ward's grip before he processes the words and goes still.
he follows the gesture with a quick look around the room, as if he's only just now seeing it — not true, and of course he'd already gotten the implications when they'd first stepped off the lift, but— ]
What? [ it's a bad habit, that startled filler. he hates it, but unlike apparently every other word, it's quick and instinctive. he looks back with every intention of expressing his discontent with that particular ruse, only to become distracted by his hand again. the color's turning, red giving way to a more neutral, if not completely comforting, orange. there's a beat of heavy silence while he thinks. when he speaks, his voice is guarded and wary. ]
Let me go.
[ he doesn't even look at ward as he says it, too busy watching to see how the mark reacts. ]
no subject
he follows the gesture with a quick look around the room, as if he's only just now seeing it — not true, and of course he'd already gotten the implications when they'd first stepped off the lift, but— ]
What? [ it's a bad habit, that startled filler. he hates it, but unlike apparently every other word, it's quick and instinctive. he looks back with every intention of expressing his discontent with that particular ruse, only to become distracted by his hand again. the color's turning, red giving way to a more neutral, if not completely comforting, orange. there's a beat of heavy silence while he thinks. when he speaks, his voice is guarded and wary. ]
Let me go.
[ he doesn't even look at ward as he says it, too busy watching to see how the mark reacts. ]