A Proxies Pledge

what do you look like?

[Toby's perspective]

I step back, stunned for a moment when I notice it's Jack. "F-fuck off, Jack." I say, trying to walk around him as I wipe any remaining tears from my eyes.

"You're crying because you didn't kill me?" He laughs, which irritates me. "Yeah? S-so wuh-what?" I say annoyed. He just chuckles and ruffles my hair. "You're weird, Toby. But I like it, " he says, sounding sincere. "Still don't like those tics, though." He crosses his arms and leans against a tree. "Can't you control them or something." He asks with a smug grin, which makes me snarl. And grip my hatchet tight.

"Wow, are you finally gonna kil me?" He mocks and pushes me slightly, making me stumble. I hit him in the stomach with the end of my hatchet. "Fuh-fuck off." I turn on my heel and head back to where my stuff is. Picking them up before getting ready to leave.

Before I can even turn to leave, I'm being pushed against the tree. "Wuh-what the f-fuck?" 

"You know how I can't see?" He tilts his head.
"Yes... wh-what about it."
"Can you tell me what you look like?"
"Why d-do you even c-care..?" I say, annoyed but also curious.
"Toby, please. What's your hair colour? Hair type? The colour of your eyes?"
"I h-have Brown h-hair. It's sh-short, p-people s-say messy. I have brown e-eyes."

Jack doesn't loosen his grip doesn't loosen his grip on me. "Can I feel your face? I want to know more. The structure of your face."
I blink for a few seconds, trying to see how'd that helps. "Okay..." I say in an unsure tone.

He doesn't waste any time in finding my mouth guard and goggles. His fingers glide over the edge of them before he takes the goggles off. His fingers tangling in my hair. He then takes my mouth guard off, letting his hand trace my jaw line. Each touch sending jolts of electricity through my body. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, which causes me to inhale sharply.

He smirks and does it again. "You asshole." I breathe out.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're enjoying this," he chuckles. "No, I'm not. It just caught me off guard." I try to defend myself. "You've been leaning into my touch the whole time." His smirk grows wider.

I push him away and grab my hatchets, hooking them onto my belt. "Screw you." I snarl.

"And you claim I'm the mean one."

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My English teacher would be so proud that I'm writing but would throw me under a bus for my spelling and grammar.

I'm just a Dislexic German :3