The look on Sabri's face got his attention. The man looked absolutely spooked. Mikail had caused his fair share of pain and bloodshed when he was a beater, but he certainly never killed anyone. He was no killer, which that British beater certainly couldn't say anymore.
And then there was Bensouda. If the women weren't in the room, he'd be telling Yassine to fuck off, as he had so many times during their years together at Beauxbatons. The man was an artist on a broom, but he was also a complete asshole. "It's a shame the injury that took you of the game wasn't a bludger to the face, it would have made you more pleasant." He drawled, his eyes hard and distinctly challenging.
When Shu started her twitching, Mikail forced himself to take a deep breath. Snapping at his sister wasn't going to make things any better. "That is the gist, sister." He said in clipped tones. "That is unless your illustrious," His sarcasm could drown the room, "coach has any words for you all."
And then there was Bensouda. If the women weren't in the room, he'd be telling Yassine to fuck off, as he had so many times during their years together at Beauxbatons. The man was an artist on a broom, but he was also a complete asshole. "It's a shame the injury that took you of the game wasn't a bludger to the face, it would have made you more pleasant." He drawled, his eyes hard and distinctly challenging.
When Shu started her twitching, Mikail forced himself to take a deep breath. Snapping at his sister wasn't going to make things any better. "That is the gist, sister." He said in clipped tones. "That is unless your illustrious," His sarcasm could drown the room, "coach has any words for you all."