Killian's POV
"I'm not going away. Tell me, what happened. You've not been home for days, you come in late, leave early. I haven't even seen you be here except for breakfast, and even then you don't talk and now you come back with blood on your shirt? What's going on?"
He was an eyebrow in return. Was that what it was about? He was not going to go away after bitching about all the goddamn time?
The words fucking cheated him from the inside, and for once Killian was running thin on the patience, he had mastered so well in the past two decades.
Day after today, no matter how much tried to subdue the thought process Brandon was having, he did not bulge from this. Now, he wanted to know what was going on with him.
Angry, frustrated, and it doubled those feelings, even after the punching session he had had with Brandon's assailant.
He needs to put his energy away, again.
Within a second, he grabbed Brandon's chin before turning him around his back to the wall.
