He eyed her as she spoke, nodding at the coded meaning of the words. Another night at his, somewhere they could speak in the open and their plans would not get picked up by the gossip mill and carried back to Mrs. Beauregard before they could approach her themselves. If they only had one shot at this, they had to do it right, time everything perfectly, know what they were going to say.
“I’d like that,” he said vaguely, feeling the nerves pitching about inside him again. “I’d really like that,” he added fervently, smiling well enough at Elsie’s addition of not as scary as I make her out to be but not particularly believing it. Because Elsie, given her whole character, had no doubt done very little in her life that would get her in trouble with her mother (about which her mother knew, at any rate). Tyb had had enough practice getting in trouble with Hogwarts professors to discern the scary from the less-scary, and he fancied he would reserve his judgement on this fact until he’d faced her. Maybe Mrs. Beauregard was perfectly lovely, a bundle of pansies, but at present Tybalt thought he’d almost rather single-handedly take on a dragon.
“This is ridiculous,” he murmured with a slight laugh, leaning briefly in and fighting the urge to bury his face in her shoulder. “I’ve never been more worried than you.” Elsie did the worrying; that was supposed to be her thing.
“I’d like that,” he said vaguely, feeling the nerves pitching about inside him again. “I’d really like that,” he added fervently, smiling well enough at Elsie’s addition of not as scary as I make her out to be but not particularly believing it. Because Elsie, given her whole character, had no doubt done very little in her life that would get her in trouble with her mother (about which her mother knew, at any rate). Tyb had had enough practice getting in trouble with Hogwarts professors to discern the scary from the less-scary, and he fancied he would reserve his judgement on this fact until he’d faced her. Maybe Mrs. Beauregard was perfectly lovely, a bundle of pansies, but at present Tybalt thought he’d almost rather single-handedly take on a dragon.
“This is ridiculous,” he murmured with a slight laugh, leaning briefly in and fighting the urge to bury his face in her shoulder. “I’ve never been more worried than you.” Elsie did the worrying; that was supposed to be her thing.
