Of course cutting words would only incite more - this was how it always went, this was what he didn't want - and Jude felt a sharp pang at Kieran's answer. Could he really blame him for wanting to be noble about this?
Except Jude wasn't convinced this was entirely about that, about righteousness or making it easier on him at all (Jude had agreed to this, had suggested this, could make up his own mind to be involved) when he knew Kieran, knew the guilt bound to him in fetters, knew that self-destructive bent had been in him even beforehand: the drinking, the cynicism, the apathy. Laughing at everything almost in freefall.
It scared him, just now, to think that he might not be able to rein it in.
"Well, thank you for that," Jude said, his heart racing but still as adamant as before, "but if you go about it that way, I suppose I'll still see you in Azkaban." Maybe they'd get thrown in neighbouring cells. Their fates were tied together in this now, for better or worse. "This is the best way," he bit out, determined to keep doing what was in Kieran's best interests, whether or not he cared to see it. He already suffered enough for what he was and what he'd done, without cleaving himself from everything else he had.
Jude realised he had crossed his arms tight in front of him, and made a careful effort to release them to his side, leant forwards and pressed his hands over the top of the chair he'd been sitting in, so that they could not be clenched in anger. "You understand," he began, more quietly, "that I don't think werewolves should be locked up for things they didn't choose to be or do, don't you?"
Except Jude wasn't convinced this was entirely about that, about righteousness or making it easier on him at all (Jude had agreed to this, had suggested this, could make up his own mind to be involved) when he knew Kieran, knew the guilt bound to him in fetters, knew that self-destructive bent had been in him even beforehand: the drinking, the cynicism, the apathy. Laughing at everything almost in freefall.
It scared him, just now, to think that he might not be able to rein it in.
"Well, thank you for that," Jude said, his heart racing but still as adamant as before, "but if you go about it that way, I suppose I'll still see you in Azkaban." Maybe they'd get thrown in neighbouring cells. Their fates were tied together in this now, for better or worse. "This is the best way," he bit out, determined to keep doing what was in Kieran's best interests, whether or not he cared to see it. He already suffered enough for what he was and what he'd done, without cleaving himself from everything else he had.
Jude realised he had crossed his arms tight in front of him, and made a careful effort to release them to his side, leant forwards and pressed his hands over the top of the chair he'd been sitting in, so that they could not be clenched in anger. "You understand," he began, more quietly, "that I don't think werewolves should be locked up for things they didn't choose to be or do, don't you?"
