The words are light and careless, even though he feels neither. He feels—something.
It isn't irritation, exactly, so much as a prickle of fear that manifests as petulance and the urge to say that yes, having heard the request, it is unfair, and he's opting out of any participation in this clearly foolish affair, and he would like to speak to Ellis' manager.
He is very good at not acting on urges. Instead he asks, "Don't return after how long?" And it doesn't sound anywhere close to irate by any normal measure, but for him, it's a tiny bit flat and a tiny bit clipped.
no subject
The words are light and careless, even though he feels neither. He feels—something.
It isn't irritation, exactly, so much as a prickle of fear that manifests as petulance and the urge to say that yes, having heard the request, it is unfair, and he's opting out of any participation in this clearly foolish affair, and he would like to speak to Ellis' manager.
He is very good at not acting on urges. Instead he asks, "Don't return after how long?" And it doesn't sound anywhere close to irate by any normal measure, but for him, it's a tiny bit flat and a tiny bit clipped.