Cassian’s first cracks, a fissure under the yet dormant volcano, were beginning to show. Vincent could sense it with every fibre of his being, every cell and molecule screaming at him to run before this could get ugly. The too cool way the other turned however, the look he affixed upon Lissington, rooted Vincent to his spot and a deeper scowl stretched across already sharp features. He wanted to snap something then, to cut Lissington off again with a ‘don’t drag him into this’ aimed at the big brute of a blonde but the wounded look that flickered over Cass’ features momentarily disarmed Vince. He hated being the cause of that look behind perfect blue eyes, the very gaze he’d been yearning after for weeks. It was hard enough that Cassian avoided him like he was a leaper, much like everyone else these days, but that look only made it feel like he - Vince - too was causing pain. 

As quickly as the sentimentality flared up however, the flame was doused by venom. The words that shot at them like daggers as Cassian straightened only made everything inside of Vincent feel sick. Sick and hollow. If he’d had any appetite to eat after the mandrake incident this morning, all of it would have come back up right here right now. Acidity leaked into the Slytherin’s mind, reeling as it was, and the sheer fury that Vincent felt at Cass’ gall made him snort a derisive, slightly mad, laugh. It was sharp, cutting through the fragility of the moment around them.

The words he had ready to slap back in the other’s face died before Vincent could articulate them, Lissington jumping in with his own defense. Vince wanted to tell the other to stay out of this because, really, how much of Cass’ reaction was really to do with them and not more him, but he refrained. Instead, Vincent waited until the other finished and with a nasty, malicious sneer he tacked on: “Right. It’s not as if you thought it was so perverted yourself a few weeks ago.”

The silence that followed that statement could have swallowed all of England.

Vincent hoped it hurt. Vincent hoped it ripped a nice fat hole over Cassian’s most sensitive spot because he knew he shouldn’t be bringing that up. Not like this, so brazenly, and not here and now. But every underlying resentment that had been festering over the past few weeks had finally come to a peak and hearing Cassian speak this way again was enough to make Vincent want to hurt him back. He had a right to know how it felt, too.

“I already know about the rumors,” the Slytherin finally spoke again, voice quiet like a hiss in the grass. “Did you really think, after everything this bloody year, I wouldn’t be acutely aware of my surroundings Cassian? Everyone and their governess can see how the ‘golden Valenduris’ grew tired of his pet and the target on my back has been worse than ever. But I don’t need you to defend me,” Green eyes flashed dangerously. “That’s what nobody seems to bloody understand!”

If sparks could have shot out of his ears in that moment they would have. Vincent wished the whole world would get on the same page and realize that he was more than capable of defending himself against whatever rubbish the likes of society decided to drag him into. He didn’t need Cass’ muscle, he didn’t need Lissington’s sentimentality! Vincent Iago was clever enough to evade scrapes and if it meant having to hole himself up and lock away whatever margin of emotion he did have the capacity for, then so be it. It’s what they bloody wanted anyway, wasn’t it?

“I’m not sorry that my entire existence offends you Valenduris,” he finally snarled again. “That’s your problem. My only regret is that you ever came into my life and made me feel any hope at all!” Tugging the Hufflepuff scarf from around his neck, mostly to keep from feeling like even more of an imposter than he already did, Vincent tossed it (gently) on the ground where he’d just been sitting. He didn’t dare look at Lissington, knowing that whatever collateral damage was being hurled in his direction would have to be dealt with at a later time. Right now, there was only rage and anger and disgust and guilt swirling around in the Slytherin’s mind - all of it aimed at Cassian Valenduris.

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