[He agrees, barely able to hear his own voice. I shouldn't. He knows it's true; he wants to know it's true. He looks around as though that will somehow make Leonel appear, like Leonel's the one who can resolve this sickened feeling in the back of his throat. Instead, there are only strangers, men and woman who are staring at him with revulsion in their gazes. One of them, he thinks he might recognise.
He punches once more, harder than before, and then pulls his hand back sharply, holding it to himself. Only then does he actually look at the person beside him—he's surprised, but not as repelled as he could be. There's kindness in this person. He doesn't understand why, but there is.
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[He agrees, barely able to hear his own voice. I shouldn't. He knows it's true; he wants to know it's true. He looks around as though that will somehow make Leonel appear, like Leonel's the one who can resolve this sickened feeling in the back of his throat. Instead, there are only strangers, men and woman who are staring at him with revulsion in their gazes. One of them, he thinks he might recognise.
He punches once more, harder than before, and then pulls his hand back sharply, holding it to himself. Only then does he actually look at the person beside him—he's surprised, but not as repelled as he could be. There's kindness in this person. He doesn't understand why, but there is.
He isn't able to say anything else.]