[He isn't surprised by Wash's actions in the least, almost expected it, lets him tear his wrists away from his mouth, lingering taste of leather as it scrapes across his teeth. Pietro's abdomen tightens, a quick jerk of a sensation at it all the same, and he doesn't pull back once Wash has hold of his wrists. He glares hotly for a second, a defiant flicker in his eyes even as he does absolutely nothing to get himself out this situation. Wash confirms that as Pietro's gaze shifts to the knife and he hisses at it slides into his thigh, teasing, not deep enough, barely existent pain that is nothing but an irritation in its mockery. It distracts him enough that his thoughts slide out of his mouth.]
So I could not get out?
[It's quiet and questioning as his eyebrows knit together and he presses his teeth into his bottom lip. He'd said he needed to move, and he does, almost desperately at times, uncontrollably, and thinking about it, he can almost feel the impact of running into those concrete walls so many times when it had all been beyond his control. His fingers shake and he tugs unconsciously at the belt again. His eyes remain on the knife.]
no subject
So I could not get out?
[It's quiet and questioning as his eyebrows knit together and he presses his teeth into his bottom lip. He'd said he needed to move, and he does, almost desperately at times, uncontrollably, and thinking about it, he can almost feel the impact of running into those concrete walls so many times when it had all been beyond his control. His fingers shake and he tugs unconsciously at the belt again. His eyes remain on the knife.]