Tybalt's subdued tone sounds all wrong on him. There's no crowing, no ego, no excitement. Everything that usually pulls Eddy to him is suddenly vanished. His gazes flickers back up to him.

Tybalt's moving away. Which is what he wanted. Escape. Freedom. But he lingers, frozen, holding himself tightly, like his body's forgotten how to move. This isn't the boy he thought he knew. He's supposed be grinning, cocky, wallowing in his triumph. Eddy did this.

Escape is what he'd wanted. From this moment. From the confusing stabs of pain. Now his fingers curl, wanting to reach out and pull him back and awkwardly fix this somehow.

Instead he nods curtly and pushes past him, an object breaking free from gravitational pull. It doesn't feel good.