"Ugh!"
Ismael gasped for air as soon as his back crashed on the wall, almost smashing the entire wall from the force. Joaquin simply flung his arm up, but Ismael was thrown like a ball of paper. He coughed as he planted his palm on the floor, feeling his lungs constrict. He hadn't recovered yet when he felt someone's presence at his side.
Looking up, he held his breath. Joaquin was squatting down in front of him, tilting his head, sizing him up in amusement.
"What a bother." Joaquin sighed. "I planned to ask you politely to gather your forces and go back to the scaffold on your own to keep your pride, but you are damn annoying."
Instead of fear, Ismael's eyes burned in rage. "Unless you bow until your forehead is touching the ground, I will never die --" his remaining words were thrust back to his throat when Joaquin grabbed his jaw, covering his mouth and pinning the back of Ismael's head against the wall with a bang.
