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The shock was plain to see on his face. He felt a sharp pain but it wasn't from his injury. How considerate of your cousin to wait until the last minute to offer his opinion, I'm sure his only thought was for your wellbeing and had nothing to do with his own. There were so many things he wanted to say bubbling under the surface but none of them would do him any favors. For the first time ever he found himself wanting to be angry with her, no matter how sure he was that this was entirely Macnair's handiwork. Was he mistaken in her intelligence? Was it a partiality for her cousin that he'd desperately convinced himself couldn't be? Whatever he's said to you, don't you think you know me better? Do you not trust your own opinion of me over that of a man who barely knows me? His chest hurt in a strange, intangible sort of way.

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Outfit | Tag: Tatiana Lestrange| Notes: