[Though it's none of the day's bragging that stops him. Instead, it's a flashback, now that they're back in California, a stinging memory of those words: Eat better my ass. Not something you're thinking about now, huh? and then of a Christmas Eve choking. In the end his fist drops, defeated.
He really had planned on hitting him. He supposes he has to think of this as 'growth' or 'maturation' or something. It just feels like giving up. Blanca's face flashes too. It's enough flashbacks he almost expects a nice war scene or another Griff to round it out, but as he shifts the seat back into place, ready to drive again, there's just plain old dry reality, in which there's not really anything he can do but take whatever the hell Ash wants to go through.]
no subject
He really had planned on hitting him. He supposes he has to think of this as 'growth' or 'maturation' or something. It just feels like giving up. Blanca's face flashes too. It's enough flashbacks he almost expects a nice war scene or another Griff to round it out, but as he shifts the seat back into place, ready to drive again, there's just plain old dry reality, in which there's not really anything he can do but take whatever the hell Ash wants to go through.]
You win again.