Fighting Spirit
He saluted smartly, backing out of the spotlight towards the door. His first speech in front of the parliament was over. He had prepared and prepared, and knew that it had gone over smoothly. But on the inside, he was a wreck. He felt the stiffness in his limbs threatening to paralyze him; his scorching body temperature beginning to affect his breathing and vision. He had controlled it, controlled himself, as long as he had to, and now he was pushing through the too-heavy doors, blind in the sudden light of the hall, legs feeling lead while his head was helium.
Roy took three brave steps down the dazzling hallway before giving in and collapsing. Maes was there to catch him when he fell.
