Theo nodded earnestly, even at her getting a read; when she offered to let him know, his eyes widened a fraction and he nodded again, still more fervently. “Yeah – yeah, if you could.” He moved on from fidgeting with the glass of bourbon to pulling quietly at the end his shirt sleeves, straightening the cuffs distractedly under his jacket. “I don’t get to see him so much, anymore,” he explained, not sure how much Angie Swan knew but presuming she knew enough about him and Cash. After all, she had known enough to invite him here.
But it was a problem now. He didn’t have an easy excuse to see him all the time now that he didn’t see him at the Cannons pitch; finding any privacy was hard now that Cash was married and had retired from quidditch and they lived separate lives. And privacy was dangerous in itself, now – for Cash’s safety, and Theo’s resolve – because every time Theo remembered the night he had seen Cash on spiritus sancti, he still felt guilty about it. “We’re not... and I don’t know how best to help him, nowadays.” He sighed. It seemed next to impossible from a distance. But Angie Swan was here; that seemed hopeful.
But it was a problem now. He didn’t have an easy excuse to see him all the time now that he didn’t see him at the Cannons pitch; finding any privacy was hard now that Cash was married and had retired from quidditch and they lived separate lives. And privacy was dangerous in itself, now – for Cash’s safety, and Theo’s resolve – because every time Theo remembered the night he had seen Cash on spiritus sancti, he still felt guilty about it. “We’re not... and I don’t know how best to help him, nowadays.” He sighed. It seemed next to impossible from a distance. But Angie Swan was here; that seemed hopeful.
