"How can I be fucking happy when you ask that!" Zelos shouts as he loses control, hands balled into fists by his sides as he takes a step forward into Lloyd's space. "You pull me out of the manor, of lordship, and then you have the guts to give up like that?! You're really gonna drag me all the way back and leave me so you can serve yourself?! Fucking wow, Lloyd! I didn't think you'd be one to give up like that!"

Zelos takes a few harsh breaths, his fury spreading and taking over his whole body, making him shake. He's being irrational, he's not thinking clearly, he's not even listening, but by this point, it's not like he can even control that, either. It's all days of silent self-loathing and doubt, of anxious fear, all bubbling at the surface and exploding after a single thing left him with more fears and doubts than he ever could've wanted.

And that's the problem with Zelos, he knows. Terror becomes anger, anger becomes a knife. The knife sharpens his words and actions, drives him to defend himself like a cornered animal, even from threats that aren't even there. "But I guess that just means you finally saw the light, huh?!" Zelos adds, stepping forward again. "Fuck Lord Wilder, right! Better to ditch him and run for the prize, right?!"