He wouldn't. He absolutely wouldn't give Vincent the pleasure of seeing him in such an undignified state, just as he refused to acknowledge the other boy's taunt with anything but an unwavering stare.
The pinching of his opponent's nails through the front of his shirt stung like a handful of angry wasps, but Kit did not falter. He could feel blood rising already to the surface of those gouges, but they wouldn't be the first wounds his body had received, nor the last. The important part, even as Vincent threw all of his weight into him, was that he still had the other boy's arm trapped.
It was a familiar sensation, reeling backwards together in midair for what felt like an eternity, but the ground rushed up more quickly to meet them here than it had in the stairwell, and this time Kit was prepared for it. Once his shoulders met the grass, Kit finally relinquished his hold on Vincent's arm in favor of seizing him by the shirt instead. A knee drove up between his opponent's legs and, using that leverage, he forced his opponent's weight over his head and rolled with him until he had reversed their positions.
He was smiling as he gazed down at Vincent, tugging him up by the grip he had on his shirt. And that smile remained even as he slammed the other boy back down, visiting upon him the same pain he'd endured the last time they had come to blows.
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The pinching of his opponent's nails through the front of his shirt stung like a handful of angry wasps, but Kit did not falter. He could feel blood rising already to the surface of those gouges, but they wouldn't be the first wounds his body had received, nor the last. The important part, even as Vincent threw all of his weight into him, was that he still had the other boy's arm trapped.
It was a familiar sensation, reeling backwards together in midair for what felt like an eternity, but the ground rushed up more quickly to meet them here than it had in the stairwell, and this time Kit was prepared for it. Once his shoulders met the grass, Kit finally relinquished his hold on Vincent's arm in favor of seizing him by the shirt instead. A knee drove up between his opponent's legs and, using that leverage, he forced his opponent's weight over his head and rolled with him until he had reversed their positions.
He was smiling as he gazed down at Vincent, tugging him up by the grip he had on his shirt. And that smile remained even as he slammed the other boy back down, visiting upon him the same pain he'd endured the last time they had come to blows.