"..." Adrian Zhekova sneered full of disrespect, "If you're not nervous, then why don't you try to relax!"
"I am relaxed." Lyke Zhekova said stiffly.
"Hah!" Adrian Zhekova scoffed, "Start off by loosening your fists."
Lyke Zhekova was at his own home, sitting straight-backed.
That could be excused, barely, as him having good deportment.
Sitting like a bell.
But the fact that Lyke Zhekova's fists were clenched tightly on his knees was completely outrageous.
Looking at Lyke Zhekova's knuckles turning white from the force.
And he claims he's not nervous?
Lyke Zhekova:"..."
Lyke Zhekova looked down and realized he had been clenching unconsciously.
If it weren't for Adrian Zhekova, he wouldn't even have noticed.
When Lyke Zhekova unclenched his fists, he realized he had been gripping them for too long.
As for how long, he didn't know.
All he knew was, now that he's let go, his fingers felt stiff.
The flexibility in his fingers had greatly reduced.
