( It's strange, the way fear mixes with anger at all of Chobe's actions and words. As he's stared at (or through?), as he's made fun of, taunted and played with— Esikko's fingers curl tighter into his palms, trying to keep a lid on the rage that's threatening to overflow.

After all, he's in no position to be aggressive. The vials he'd slipped into his pockets to take here just in case had already proven useless with how quickly he'd been grabbed, and this whole meetup was just to toy with him, to string him along? He's seeing red, he's so angry, and logic falls further away as he struggles to ground himself and focus on the actual words coming from Chobe's mouth. )

You're cocky— ( But the words seethe out like steam, even if his body is frigid from his own icy blood, and he reaches out foolishly to grab a fistful of whatever cloth Chobe has as a top right now. As if he could be threatening himself, as if he could do anything more than a pathetic push or slap. )

Because you're cheating, right? With a body like that. One you weren't born with.

It pisses me off. ( His glare is sharp enough to kill, even if he has nothing to back it up with. Pure anger, deep rooted and projected onto an easy target, enough to make his hands tremble with each breath. )

I'd love nothing more than to rip that power right out of your chest.

( Bottle it for someone else. Wipe that stupid smirk off that stupid face. )