"It could have gone worse?" I half suggest and half ask. Tony brings his head out from between his knees and looks at me. His eyes have been struck red as if with lightning and his face turned puffy aswell as tinted crimson.
"He swung away." Tony snapped, his voice had been brass and harsh, if not for anything else other then to act as a defensive wall. The man sighed and buried his head in his hands to try and cloak his face of pain.
We stood in awkward silence for what felt like hours, when in reality it has only been seconds. I kept my chest out and my shoulders back in an attempt to look brave and collected; an attempt to keep everything together. If I could handle it then maybe everyone could too, maybe they'd see me and feel stronger. Maybe then Tony could feel stronger.
The feeling of the words that came were no more then a whisper through silence and with a heavy heart pain that was shared. "What the fuck am I going to do?"