His shoulders stiffened before he turned back around, a tell to the anger that pushed through him-What was it about women and victimizing themselves, making themselves martyrs to a cause? Chris knew he was starting to think of Toby like much more of a woman than he was and he glared her down. Maybe he would hit a woman, seeing as it was only temporary.
"Fuck you, Beecher, I'm not going to suddenly embrace the fucking fact that you're a woman, alright? Fuck, I spend fucking years trying to love you, and I do, I do with all my fucking heart, and I'm accepting you're a fucking man, I'm trying, I'm changing for the fucking better and now, now you want me to fucking rejoyce in your fucking cunt?" He stepped toward the bed, body tense with his anger and frustration. The conflict in his own head was enough for an argument, really, seeing as he was already forming a rebuttle to his own words-yes, he should be happy, yes, he should accept it, it was easier than loving a man, he wasn't a fag then-but he wasn't about to show that weakness.
"Make up your mind, Toby. Make up your mind. Do you want to be a woman? Do you want me to love you as a fucking woman? Because I can. I can and will, but I can't be fucking toyed with!" He wasn't raising his voice, but it was getting colder as he stared at the woman on the bed, detaching her from Toby, not being able to fully connect the man he loved with this person. Not when she was being such a bitch.