Van hated - hated - when people were stronger than him, strong enough to move him wherever they wanted him like he was some doll. He wasn't short for his age, but he did have a petite build. It was hot when Brendan did it, sure, at least that one time in the showers anyway. But when facing another kelpie who was older and had grown up knowing how to throw his strength around, Van felt only a frustrated burning fury at his disadvantage.
They were down on the floor of Van's room now and Van had nothing but a grip on the back of Ewan's ripped shirt. The rest of him was pinned to the ground after taking a fall from his leg being knocked out from under him.
The fiery glint in Van's dark eyes indicated he wasn't in the mood to call anything a draw, but when Ewan pointed out that he might lose his permission to go to the festival, the fury began to fade. First with resentment towards his brother, blame even, and then with anger at himself for not being strong enough to take him.
"Fine." He turned his head angrily away from Ewan and forced himself to relax, one limb at a time. Van didn't surrender easily, but what other choice did he have? Ms. Hallowfen could even be on her way right now. He already had the worst detention of all time. He couldn't risk losing his trip to California with Gil.
"You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" Van hissed. He gave Ewan a sidelong look and then pushed up at him with his body, grunting. "Get off."