He tries to keep his face as passive as he can, but he ends up scowling anyways. He bristles but keeps his eyes on her, silent. Under her watch. He longs to snarl at her, or maybe try tearing out her throat, but a feeling of unease curls in his stomach. She's higher than him. And that, that makes anger brew in him as well, but he doesn't act on it. Instincts scream no, because look at her, think of her color; shouldn't he respect her, the Heiress, at least hold his tongue for now?

Gamzee is silent only a second longer before speaking, his voice clear. "Hey, Feferi," he places emphasis on her name, as he rarely calls anyone by their names directly. "Maybe. I like you better this way; ain't you acting like you finally should?"