Anti-Fan
"Ring!" Tone squeaked, looking over into the startlingly hostile, but rich eyes of the Prince of Thailand.
Ring was glowering at him.
The proud, pompous man who never had time to do anything. Anything, except looking down at the world, and apparently judging even someone's groan. The man behind the voice he wished he could stop replaying in his dreams. The voice that he had tried not to think about for the past year of his life.
Ring scoffed. "Why are you swearing at me?"
"You're the one who got in the elevator, despite me already being on it. Are you blind?" Ring's voice echoed in the small steel box, almost painfully so.
Tone blinked at him stupidly before picking up his deserted and scattered marbles, and instead schooled his face into what he hoped was a mask of indifference.
He scoffed, jutting his chin out, effectively angling his face, issuing a challenge at Ring.