[Yanked to his feet in the manner that he is, Dion fully expects a fight to break out. He lifts his free arm at first, seeking to shove Clive back or to block his face, he isn't sure. Thus, he finds himself in a bit of an awkward position, arm half-extended, as he's pulled into an embrace. He remains frozen there for the space of one breath. Two. Three.
The arm in the air settles around Clive's shoulder. He can't will the other to lift, baffled as he is, but at least he's trying? The confusion doesn't ebb, made clear by the stammered out:]
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The arm in the air settles around Clive's shoulder. He can't will the other to lift, baffled as he is, but at least he's trying? The confusion doesn't ebb, made clear by the stammered out:]
What — are you doing?