Bad Fan
Immediately, Erric exhaled in disappointment, stood up from his seat, and turned away.
“He’s kidding, they wanted anyone of us. Of course, you wouldn’t,” Thor slipped in. He had a smile that did not directly depict that he found the joke funny. Erric had seen it before. He hated receiving it—a smile without happiness, flashed only to give a sense of comfort, through pity. They never help; they make him feel helpless. He’s not helpless.
He sat down again but more agitated by Thor’s pity than Deuss’ joke. “So who will?” he asked, trying to hide his irritation down.
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