"Fireworks weren't part of the deal," he retorted, aware that this was childish and feeling no hesitation about playing into it. He'd rather be accused of being immature than of being hung up on someone. He picked up another firework and pretended to read its label, though really he was watching Hudson's posture out of the corner of his eye. "This is a no-supervision-required sort of project, so if you're not here to help, you can go," he said, with more amusement than frustration in his tone. He had been annoyed before: annoyed that Hudson had caught him stumbling and thought he needed looking after, annoyed that there was nothing to attribute his bad mood to except Hudson's presence. Now he had discarded his real feelings for a party mask of cheerful havoc-wrecker; he was more amenable to Hudson's company in this state.

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