[ For a split second he sees the windup, the tensing of muscles, but: John doesn't think he'll go through with it. He wouldn't—
Palamedes's whatever-he-is clocks him in the jaw.
God recoils with a hand to his mouth, his eyes wide and bright with incredulity. He bangs a knee against the coffee table. The teacups rattle. It is deeply inelegant.
There is a beat of shocked silence. Then God rolls his jaw experimentally, drops his hand, and considers Viktor across the space between them. ]
no subject
Palamedes's whatever-he-is clocks him in the jaw.
God recoils with a hand to his mouth, his eyes wide and bright with incredulity. He bangs a knee against the coffee table. The teacups rattle. It is deeply inelegant.
There is a beat of shocked silence. Then God rolls his jaw experimentally, drops his hand, and considers Viktor across the space between them. ]
So no tea, then.