( quentin pads out his own landing, which saves julian from having to do it. good. he'd just hate to offer a cushion when he's busy doing - this. still, he's careful. there's enough pressure with julian's forearm against quentin's collar to bruise, but not nearly enough to break anything. same with the telekinetic force julian uses to hold quentin up, not that he necessarily needs it. this is a show of force, of power, which julian has every intention of coming out in top of. )
Yeah, I did. ( avoidance isn't getting him anywhere. not doing what quentin wants isn't, even if his frustration at julian's unwillingness to bend was hilarious. but it wasn't solving anything, just putting them straight back into where they'd been in the library: biting at each other's throats in a back and forth cycle that solved nothing. so, now? julian's leaning right into quentin, putting his weight on that forearm he's got shoved right up against him, pushing his way into quentin's space until their faces are so close, he can feel quentin breathing. )
Because I am sick of your attitude. You're too busy projecting all of your own problems onto everyone else that you can't fucking see what's right in front of you. You think I'm pissed at you, for not telling me about our goddamn home getting decimated, again? I get it, idiot. You think I would have done any different, if our positions had been reversed?
( julian lets that sit. not long enough for quentin to bark out a response, just long enough for him to have a moment to really think about it. )
For someone who claims to be a genius, you spend an awful lot of time proving you're the most exhausting person in every room. And I. Don't. Have the time or energy to bother with it. ( his arm shoves into quentin even harder, as julian takes another step closer. there's no space between them, no room for quentin to breathe without julian feeling the rise and fall of his chest. ) I don't get pissed at you for basic bullshit. I get pissed at you for being the stupidest, most self-destructive asshole on the block. Hell, Quire. If you were half as smart as you think you are, you might've been dangerous. Instead, you're just a self-absorbed, would-be punk.
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Yeah, I did. ( avoidance isn't getting him anywhere. not doing what quentin wants isn't, even if his frustration at julian's unwillingness to bend was hilarious. but it wasn't solving anything, just putting them straight back into where they'd been in the library: biting at each other's throats in a back and forth cycle that solved nothing. so, now? julian's leaning right into quentin, putting his weight on that forearm he's got shoved right up against him, pushing his way into quentin's space until their faces are so close, he can feel quentin breathing. )
Because I am sick of your attitude. You're too busy projecting all of your own problems onto everyone else that you can't fucking see what's right in front of you. You think I'm pissed at you, for not telling me about our goddamn home getting decimated, again? I get it, idiot. You think I would have done any different, if our positions had been reversed?
( julian lets that sit. not long enough for quentin to bark out a response, just long enough for him to have a moment to really think about it. )
For someone who claims to be a genius, you spend an awful lot of time proving you're the most exhausting person in every room. And I. Don't. Have the time or energy to bother with it. ( his arm shoves into quentin even harder, as julian takes another step closer. there's no space between them, no room for quentin to breathe without julian feeling the rise and fall of his chest. ) I don't get pissed at you for basic bullshit. I get pissed at you for being the stupidest, most self-destructive asshole on the block. Hell, Quire. If you were half as smart as you think you are, you might've been dangerous. Instead, you're just a self-absorbed, would-be punk.