Noah struggled and gasped and cried and he struggled, trying to get out of Francis' grip.

Francis frowned and released him. He immediately scurried back. "Do not hit me again!" He stood and rubbed away the blood on his shirt from his slightly broken nose.

Noah too scurried away, coughing, and gasping for air.

Francis narrowed his eyes. "You seem surprised I'd protect myself."

Noah sat in the corner. Still recovering. He looked at the man, frightened now.

Francis rolled his eyes and held his sleeve up to his bloody nose. "Look what you did! This is your fault." He pointed at him and winced. "I always thought my face wasn't half bad and you had to go and ruin it."

"Shouldn't have bothered me then," Noah spat back, but his voice sounded a good deal more frightened than before.

Francis waved him off with his free hand. "Ah yes.. whistling deserves being hit. You're quite right..." he was dripping sarcasm and rolled his eyes. "You started it by ruining my drink."

"You started it by being a cunt," Noah sulked like the grown up he was.

"I'm not the one who's been a brat here." He winced and closed one eye but wouldn't risk closing both around Noah. "I wanted to teach you a lesson in taking responsibility, then you just made me madder."