He was about to respond to Foxwoood; air had whistled down his throat and instead of speaking, Agrimony doubled over, coughing violently. Tears stung his eyes as he recovered, wiping at his mouth. “Just go home, Foxwood.” Dear fuck, why wouldn’t this man just mind his own business? He glowered at the intruder, at his easy grin and wondering what in god’s name had gotten him in such a good mood. And why the hell he had chosen Agrimony to bestow his annoying, sunny disposition upon.

He opened his mouth once more, but then coughing overtook him again. His shoulders heaved, and he doubled over again, this time having to cough into a handkerchief. And this time when he pulled away, a flash of red caught his eye.

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