He felt the touch on his arm - so gentle that it took his breath away - then the words - and snapped. Without thinking, without even inhaling, he slammed his fist into the other man's chest like an animal, his anger exploding from him in a blow that was aimed at the spot where Zach knew it would hurt him most and not Christopher. He wanted to bruise, he wanted to bleed, he wanted something- anything - from this man that wasn't words dropping from his lips.
"Fuck you," he growled. "Fuck you and your words- I asked you, I fucking begged you to help me, fucking begged you to stay with me for just a few goddamn minutes in the wall and you walk away every goddamn time. Don't tell me that you'll help like I'm some goddamn little charity case you can pick up when you're bored and drop when you haven't got any fucking time. You know what? I didn't fucking save your kid and your sister for you- I saved them because I can't goddamn stand by and watch people cack it. And I fucked up, Warrington, I fucked up bad if you think that you can stand here and tell me that you're gonna goddamn help and then walk away because you can't take the motherfucking heat."
His fingers snarled against the other man's collar, dragging him closer so close that they were only a breath apart, his mouth an inch from Warrington's lips as he whispered, "You don't even fucking know", then shoved him away, his whole body tense as he stood there, ignoring the sweat dripping from his brow, the salt trickling into his half-parted mouth.