It was in a mounting state of frustration that Kyros stormed onto the lacrosse field, all business. His eyes darted between each helmeted player as they all slowed to a halt, confounded by the Prince's presence on their field.

The game settled as he passed through the players like a particularly incensed bull, parting the tide of Kenneth Wellington’s navy blue uniforms with ease until he came upon the one he was looking for. Gabriel had been adjusting something on his big lacrosse stick when he looked up at the silence and his expression immediately grew wary. “What do you—“

Kyros wrenched the stick out of his hands and cast it aside, saying severely, "You and I need to have a conversation."

“What the fuck, Kyros?” his head snapped to the side in disbelief, and then he did something both unthinkable and inadvisable and gave the prince a mighty shove.

Kyros, taken aback and at this point fuming, stood his ground. "Do that again." His voice dripped with disdain. "I dare you."

Gabriel had his hands still splayed out, like he expected Kyros to come barreling back, looking a bit bewildered himself. Then he hardened. “Just— I don’t want to do this. Leave me alone.”

"You don't have a choice, do you?" He retorted. "You want to do this in front of all your little friends-- fine. Tell me what you said to her."

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Gabe exhaled. “C’mon. You got what you wanted. Go home and celebrate, fuck if I care.”

"Celebrate? I'm here doing damage control. What did you say to her?" He pressured.

Gabriel shot him a belligerent look and, voice low, uttered, "That's between me and her."