Azra's face stays red as he squirms, trying to get away. He knew he could easily floor Zukata, even from this position, but. . . He strangely didn't want to. "I swear to the gods, my fist will be planted firmly in you gut in the neck three seconds if you don'tet me go."
Azra stumbles at the unexpected spin, his hands flashing out to grasp onto something -- anything, which happened to be Zukata's forearms as he loses his balance. He grunts, "Fuck- Don't do shit like that-"
Zukata laughs as he kept his arms still for Azra to use for balance. "Alright.... I won't do it again." He mumbles with a hum, his hands flipping to face upward and hold Azra's arms back.
Azra lets out a long suffering sigh, "Just great." He grumbles, though secretly he was warming up to the man. The idea of having a friend again, of being able to talk to someone other than a hunk of wood.
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