[ Amos is... still angry. Well, he isn't sure if that's exactly the right feeling. He is feeling something, that's for sure, deep in the center of his chest, moving down to his stomach, eating away at him. It's not painful, it's just persistent, nagging.
He has to force himself down to the gym after his fight with Alex. He can't face anyone, knowing he was liable to just throw punches without rhyme or reason, just for the sake of it, just to feel bones crunch under his knuckles. But -
He thinks that Naomi wouldn't like that. That Prax wouldn't like that. And so he goes down to the gym and punches a sandbag instead, repeatedly, mercilessly, until he's sweating profusely and his bruised hand refuses to throw anymore, aching too badly. He doesn't feel any better, but he doesn't feel like he's as volatile as he was earlier, breathing slightly easier now.
Considers his options.
Goes to Prax. Knocks on the door with his less bruised hand, cradling the other against his chest. Tries to breathe slow. ]
action; after fight with alex
He has to force himself down to the gym after his fight with Alex. He can't face anyone, knowing he was liable to just throw punches without rhyme or reason, just for the sake of it, just to feel bones crunch under his knuckles. But -
He thinks that Naomi wouldn't like that. That Prax wouldn't like that. And so he goes down to the gym and punches a sandbag instead, repeatedly, mercilessly, until he's sweating profusely and his bruised hand refuses to throw anymore, aching too badly. He doesn't feel any better, but he doesn't feel like he's as volatile as he was earlier, breathing slightly easier now.
Considers his options.
Goes to Prax. Knocks on the door with his less bruised hand, cradling the other against his chest. Tries to breathe slow. ]