He was furious. He was completely flabbergasted by her utter lack of respect—lack of care—for their reputations. He was truly enraged, but he was the Least Intimidating in his current physical state and could do no more than shift his body in the seat so he could look at her. If she weren't a woman, he'd—
He took a breath. Such violent, angry thoughts were ones he'd claimed to have learned to control long ago, and it was appalling that a self-important young woman could irk him to the point of becoming a hothead once more!
He didn't care that much, did he? Obviously not; when a man cared about a woman, he got all sappy, not pissed beyond comprehension. The only explanation was that he wanted to prove his own dominance—his own manliness—which was something she seemed to brush off without another word.
"Well when I'm grudgingly filing paperwork for my father for the rest of my existence, I'll remember that you were so very pleased with yourself—alright?" It wasn't funny anymore; her attitude was just irritating. He avoided her gaze as he stared down at his still-bloody palms, once against feeling for his wand which fortunately was more accessible while sitting up.
He cleared his hands of the cuts and bruises without another word. He didn't have much time to cool off, though; a sudden pain struck his abdomen, causing him to recoil into a curled-up position in his seat.
He took a breath. Such violent, angry thoughts were ones he'd claimed to have learned to control long ago, and it was appalling that a self-important young woman could irk him to the point of becoming a hothead once more!
He didn't care that much, did he? Obviously not; when a man cared about a woman, he got all sappy, not pissed beyond comprehension. The only explanation was that he wanted to prove his own dominance—his own manliness—which was something she seemed to brush off without another word.
"Well when I'm grudgingly filing paperwork for my father for the rest of my existence, I'll remember that you were so very pleased with yourself—alright?" It wasn't funny anymore; her attitude was just irritating. He avoided her gaze as he stared down at his still-bloody palms, once against feeling for his wand which fortunately was more accessible while sitting up.
He cleared his hands of the cuts and bruises without another word. He didn't have much time to cool off, though; a sudden pain struck his abdomen, causing him to recoil into a curled-up position in his seat.
— set by MJ! —