[Espy]

HAYATE

"Dammit. Fuck you...FUCK YOU. FUUUUUCK. YOOOOUUUU. I HATE YOU. I--" Hayate choked and his throat smarted even more. By the time he was done coughing, his voice was gone and his screaming has been reduced to the empty mouthing of vulgarity. Giving up on trying to provoke the Hunter into paying more attention to him, he curled as best as he could into a tight ball, panting and trying to rub his disheveled and singed hair out of his eyes. The cold concrete outside the still-burning shop was rough on his wounds but felt both like hell and salvation at the same time, and he tried to budge his arms as little as possible: The metal was scraping against his newly-acquired burns.

He laughed to and at himself. What would the mad cat think if she ever saw him like this? Surely it was pathetic.