[ This isn't him. He's kept his mouth in perfect control since... childhood, really. Which means- which means it's environmental. Cheol-gang slams the pocketwatch back down on the table with an open palm before he even acknowledges the hand on his shoulder or the man connected to it, then turns, briefly locks stares with the pale blue eyes. He's not sure why he does it, really - he's not trying to stare the man down.

He just does.

Irving's whole reaction is a stark reminder of the fault line separating their lived experience - for something so standard to be unspeakable to a man in a navy notorious for its draconic punishments is a strange thought, though he's not particularly surprised. Class lines between officers and enlisted men are just as clearly demarcated in other countries as they are in his own, after all; there's probably some egregiously overfamiliar custom between officers in the English navy that would never be tolerated in the DPRK.

He cants his head to one side as though lost in thought, briefly glancing away. ]

I told him there must have been some reason to explain the evidence the investigators put together, and he failed to recall his debt of gratitude to me. He was within his rights, however inconsiderate and ungrateful he was. We were in an interrogation room.