[ Anger is similarly starting to bubble in his chest. He won't even talk this out with him? Fine. A man in his right mind might be able to piece it together, rationalize that there's cause for being upset about this, but Rafael is just upset.

So he steps back, towards the door he had come through, one hand curling into a fist at his side. ]

Whatever. I'll see you when this crap wears off.

[ Please, god, wear off.

It won't wear off, says two different voices; one made of fear, and one made of reason. ]