Studying Mr. Torie’s face against his better judgement, Anthony searched for any hint of continued discomfort. What he saw there tugged at his heartstrings making the brunette avert his gaze after a long moment. He hated the fact that she was unhappy and in pain, at least one of these in part due to his family’s interference in her life.

He nodded and stepped away as she asserted she was fine. Idly, Anthony wondered a bit about the broken leg but didn’t dare to ask. It wasn’t his place to be concerned for her overall well-being anymore. He’d lost that privilege the night he’d walked away from her. Instead, he gave a half-hearted shrug and forced a reassuring smile onto his face. “You know me, Ms. Malfoy,” he teased gently. “Always ready to jump when necessity requires.”

The words cut at his sentiments even as they were on their way out. Bloody lies, all of them. He had been there, her knight in shining armor, time and time again — until the one night it mattered most. He wasn’t to know then what he knew now, but it still pained the brunette to think how she’d reached out only to be slapped away. He was not innocent, by any means, and ached to apologize to her for it. There just hadn’t been a moment yet and frankly, Anthony was terrified to open up that can of worms. What was he even supposed to say? Would it rip open a wound that had finally started to scab over? He couldn’t do that to her, to put her through the awkwardness and trauma of it all again. So, he didn’t - again. He merely straightened and moved towards the door.

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