He feels that bubbling anger, slowly rising up- up- up-- but Luther is too aware, too used to keeping those knee-jerk instincts to lash out under wraps, so it doesn't quite explode. But Diego feels the pulse of it like a drum in his head and he shakes his head like that could dispel it. "God, stop." he mutters it mostly to himself, resisting the urge to reach up and clutch his head, or clamp his hand over his ear, because he knows none of it is physical at this point, no matter how much it might feel it.
"If you think they weren't all thinking it already, you'd be sorely mistaken, I think they just needed the permission-- and yeah, I guess I gave it to them, but... it would have happened eventually, Luther. We couldn't stay there forever." Even though he did. Diego can't imagine it, not for him, or any of the rest of them. Luther was just too blinded by the false purposes their father kept telling him that he had.
The drumming anger drops into a much slower sort of rhythm as Luther's mood takes a sudden drop that Diego can't even follow. He frowns and watches his brother's face, sees the too-obvious personal hurt there that doesn't make sense until--
"I thought you'd follow... I mean, maybe not immediately, but eventually. I thought you'd leave, and I could find you when you did, and--" And what? It doesn't even matter, because it didn't happen. Nothing played out the way he had hoped, back then. His voice drops softly, "I guess it was pretty dumb to think the leader would follow."
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"If you think they weren't all thinking it already, you'd be sorely mistaken, I think they just needed the permission-- and yeah, I guess I gave it to them, but... it would have happened eventually, Luther. We couldn't stay there forever." Even though he did. Diego can't imagine it, not for him, or any of the rest of them. Luther was just too blinded by the false purposes their father kept telling him that he had.
The drumming anger drops into a much slower sort of rhythm as Luther's mood takes a sudden drop that Diego can't even follow. He frowns and watches his brother's face, sees the too-obvious personal hurt there that doesn't make sense until--
"I thought you'd follow... I mean, maybe not immediately, but eventually. I thought you'd leave, and I could find you when you did, and--" And what? It doesn't even matter, because it didn't happen. Nothing played out the way he had hoped, back then. His voice drops softly, "I guess it was pretty dumb to think the leader would follow."