"Insult you?"
Fedora's voice pitched so high it vibrated on the edge of a tear-jerking outburst. The sheer nerve of this man to gaslight him in broad daylight felt like a physical weight on his chest.
But Storm didn't stop there. In fact, he wasn't planning to stop anytime soon, not until he successfully pushed the boy far enough away to breathe again.
"We try our best to provide for you," Storm barked on. His voice grew firmer, coated in a condescending gravel that brooked no interruption.
"I personally let you live your dream life! Do you know how many boys your age would do crazy things to live like that?"
Fedora's forehead twitched, into a newfound surprise that flickered visibly in his eyes as he shook his head with a mocking, sarcastic edge. Before grabbing the hem of his jersey, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed the fabric so tightly it nearly induced muscle cramps.
