Private Finished I don't want the world to see me

It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and Galvão was not locked up in a holding cell or worse a shed. Yet the little weasel still felt terrible. He was in his human form now, or at least humanoid, a form he'd somewhat gotten used to while chained. Still he'd been in constant pain then, had the scars to prove it littering his body underneath his clothes, and it wasn't like he'd had access to a mirror. So much had changed that night.

And here he was, curled up on a bench in the courtyard he hoped was out of the way enough for no one to noticed, shivering from the aftershocks of too much repeated shifting and a near constant state of panic. He'd hoped he could put on act here. Pretend what had happened to him hadn't. But apparently more had changed about him than he had realized.

Not even a week on the island, he'd already been arrested. For somehow knocking a guy out with a punch! That would've been fine - he'd clearly been provoked, and being known as a fighter shouldn't cause too many negative impressions, but he'd absolutely lost his mind when the cop had cuffed him. Galvão did not want to be known as a coward. And he was not ready to explain that he had freaked out because he'd been tortured. He really hoped no one had noticed he'd started to cry amongst all the chaos.

Usually he'd hear if someone approached, but at the moment he was too focused on the lingering pain of his shift, futilely trying to stop his shaking and sit up straight, in case someone did walk by.

@Ephemral

At the sound of John's voice, Galvão started, blinking up at the other boy in fright as his abilities kicked in. He gasped and tried to cover it up with a glare, but he was so drained it probably didn't look very intimidating. Fortunately for him, John hadn't sent him into a strong enough panic to force him to shift again. The wereweasel didn't even know where the fear was coming from, why he'd been terrified all week. Sure the people here were different, but John was a human just like him (like he had been).

Galvão attempted to growl, but it came out as a whimper, and he was still trembling slightly. Of all the people to see him like this, it had to be this one. "S-someone up there must hate me. Fuck off. I'm napping. It's been a very long week."

He was not in the mood for excuses and apologies. And he certainly was not about to take blame for any of his own actions, justified or not. Mostly he just didn't want anyone to see him vulnerable, especially not this jerk.

Galvão gritted his teeth as John ignored him and just started talking, though he was sure his statements had made it perfectly clear he wanted to be left alone. At least the rising annoyance he was feeling helped calm the ability-induced fear from being startled. Or it did until John sat next to him.

Oh god he's so close! That instinctual panic welling up more easily because he was already on edge. Galvão curled up tighter, defensively, trying to make some distance. The desire to get away from the closeness actually enabling him to sit up and move as far from John as he could while remaining on the bench.

Then he looked at the guy. He hated this. How even a twerp like John could set him off because of what the gang had done to him or just because his stupid body had changed in ways he wasn't even aware of yet.

"Do you not understand English? Leave m-me alone! I don't give a damn about your apologies. Find s-someone who cares." Galvão grimaced at his own stuttering. His nerves were shot. He was almost more upset at how pathetic he probably looked than at the one causing all this trouble.

"My transformation is none of your business. And I was not s-scared. The shackles..." He couldn't stop himself from shivering at a memory darker than just being arrested, rubbing the silver burn scars under his sleeve. "I don't have to explain anything to you! Go away!"

"Yes. I'm. Angry. At. You." He wasn't really. Mildly annoyed at best. Just biting off his words in an attempt to mask his stuttering. Galvão, chained up in silver had only been able to shift on the full moon, no matter how terrified he'd been, a plaything in a shed. Since he'd been on this island, the only time he hadn't gone through multiple shifts a day had been when he was in jail with those handcuffs on. If he hadn't been sick to his stomach the entire time, waiting for one of the guards to attack because his mind could not convince his body he was safe, the wereweasel might have wanted to go back.

Galvão was exhausted, physically from the strain, mentally from his enhanced panic reflexes. He just didn't have the energy to keep up appearances and this guy would not get a clue and leave him be. He was shaking visibly from stress, and he knew this asshole could see it. "Why can. You not. Take a hint? Back off!"

Then John asked about the shackles and threatened to continue tormenting Galvão with his presence. The little weasel kind of lost it at that, pulling up a sleeve and showing the scars where months or possibly a couple years of being chained up with silver had left burns that would never heal.

"Are you happy now?! I'm a werewolf you little fuck. That's w-what happens when you chain a werewolf with s-silver!" The distress was clear in Gal's voice, even revealing that much threatening to send him into panic yet again. The older boy closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths, suddenly uncaring what this idiot thought of him. He didn't think he could handle shifting again.

Galvão kept his eyes shut tight and simply focused on his own breathing, trying to quell the fear and memories brought on by showing his scars. One of the best things to come out of getting arrested had been being forced to get counselling. The weasel still hadn't spoken about most of his time before the island, in fact John was the first one to see his scars here, and his arm wasn't even the worst. But just getting some tips on how to deal with these bursts of fear was helpful. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone - he'd deny even going to therapy.

John's presence wasn't making this easy. He could smell the guy just sitting there. Being a nuisance. Probably judging him for looking so scared as if he could help it. He felt the boy's arm next to him and instinctively shrunk away, hating the scared sound he made. The silence went mostly unnoticed as each fresh jolt inched him closer to shifting again and that made him even more tense. A vicious cycle.

This wasn't working and John wasn't leaving, so Galvão opened his eyes again, trying to get his own brain to see that the other guy was harmless. That Gal wasn't chained and could fight back if anyone did try to force themselves on him.

He noticed the tattoo, before John covered it, but didn't say a thing. Not knowing what it meant, though aware of the fact that a number written like that must mean something. Still he did not want to encourage this guy to talk. He just wanted to lie down and have a nap until he would be forced to deal with going to school and probably shifting a few more times just from the fact that so many weird people and creatures wandered the halls.

"F-fine. You're excused. Now will you go away?!*