[He slaps at Simmons' hovering hand for good measure.
It's... calming, maybe, sort of, to maintain some sort of consistent physical contact with someone. Maybe Simmons especially. To make sure he's still there, that bad circumstances and luck that's finally run out hasn't gone and stolen him too.
Another slap aimed at Simmons' palm. Then he goes for Simmons' wrist, aiming to pull up his hand and pretend to examine it closely.]
How am I supposed to trust you to aim a gun if you can't even hit my hand? Christ.
no subject
[He slaps at Simmons' hovering hand for good measure.
It's... calming, maybe, sort of, to maintain some sort of consistent physical contact with someone. Maybe Simmons especially. To make sure he's still there, that bad circumstances and luck that's finally run out hasn't gone and stolen him too.
Another slap aimed at Simmons' palm. Then he goes for Simmons' wrist, aiming to pull up his hand and pretend to examine it closely.]
How am I supposed to trust you to aim a gun if you can't even hit my hand? Christ.