Ford’s shoulders sagged just the tiniest bit at the unexpected apology, not enough that anyone outside of this conversation would have noticed it. Obviously none of this was Cash’s fault, but there was something vaguely reassuring in having someone say something sympathetic all the same, even if Cash had no idea what Ford was even talking about. It took a little bit of the anger out of him (just the tiniest bit) to have someone acknowledge that this sucked, even in vague terms.
“I’ve got no one to blame but myself, really,” he said in a rather pitiful tone, before he could think better of it. It was stupid to go see Macnair in the first place. Stupid to agree to spend the night afterwards. Stupid to do it a second time or to make plans for a third. Stupid to think that he could just do that and expect anything good to come of it. It was probably for the best that it was ending so abruptly, come to think of it, because as angry as he was now he expected he would have been even more crushed if he’d been seeing Macnair for weeks or months before he was blindsided by an announcement like this. And it was inevitable, he supposed, because Macnair hadn’t cared about cuddling through the night with him and he wanted to marry and — and this was a match much desired by his mother, which, like, what the fuck?
“Witch Weekly thinks there’s some magical curse in your family,” he told Cash rather bluntly. “And that’s why so many of your cousins are getting married to each other.”
“I’ve got no one to blame but myself, really,” he said in a rather pitiful tone, before he could think better of it. It was stupid to go see Macnair in the first place. Stupid to agree to spend the night afterwards. Stupid to do it a second time or to make plans for a third. Stupid to think that he could just do that and expect anything good to come of it. It was probably for the best that it was ending so abruptly, come to think of it, because as angry as he was now he expected he would have been even more crushed if he’d been seeing Macnair for weeks or months before he was blindsided by an announcement like this. And it was inevitable, he supposed, because Macnair hadn’t cared about cuddling through the night with him and he wanted to marry and — and this was a match much desired by his mother, which, like, what the fuck?
“Witch Weekly thinks there’s some magical curse in your family,” he told Cash rather bluntly. “And that’s why so many of your cousins are getting married to each other.”
Set by Lady!