In truth, Evander understood the stupidity of it, the temptation she was now trying to justify – he had felt it too, had been determined to retrieve her knowing she was out there, hadn’t he? But at least – and this was where they so clearly differed – he recognised it as stupidity. He worried that she thought it noble, thought it brave. And if that was the way she saw it, or if she were to do something thoughtless and dangerous like that again, then – then, he was worried about her. And he was worried about them.
Perhaps on that train of thought, Evander had almost expected her to refuse the instruction, to deliberately choose not to listen to him. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to stomach that, not today – fortunately for them both, Caroline had done as he asked, and sat back down.
He knew this, because as he turned the Floo Powder pot around in his grasp listlessly – as though the cool ceramic against his palms could be a balm for his frustration – he looked over at her again. Properly, this time: a full examination. She looked exhausted, still. And she – she looked exactly the same, even though the wayward tree branch had had such an impact. He wouldn’t have known, though, if the healer hadn’t said. He wouldn’t have known any of it; maybe that would have been preferable. Now he just felt – cursed, again.
He managed to look Caroline over entirely, until he met her gaze; and then there was just too much conflicting emotion in her eyes to quite bear, another storm he daren’t face; so instead, standing halfway across the room, Evander kept his eyes lowered, focused on her hands, and picked idly at the pot still in his.
“Well, I – I won’t lecture you now,” he said, which felt easier than asking how she was. (He said, as if he hadn’t started on lecturing her already; as if that didn’t just make it sound like he meant to pick it up again later.)
Perhaps on that train of thought, Evander had almost expected her to refuse the instruction, to deliberately choose not to listen to him. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to stomach that, not today – fortunately for them both, Caroline had done as he asked, and sat back down.
He knew this, because as he turned the Floo Powder pot around in his grasp listlessly – as though the cool ceramic against his palms could be a balm for his frustration – he looked over at her again. Properly, this time: a full examination. She looked exhausted, still. And she – she looked exactly the same, even though the wayward tree branch had had such an impact. He wouldn’t have known, though, if the healer hadn’t said. He wouldn’t have known any of it; maybe that would have been preferable. Now he just felt – cursed, again.
He managed to look Caroline over entirely, until he met her gaze; and then there was just too much conflicting emotion in her eyes to quite bear, another storm he daren’t face; so instead, standing halfway across the room, Evander kept his eyes lowered, focused on her hands, and picked idly at the pot still in his.
“Well, I – I won’t lecture you now,” he said, which felt easier than asking how she was. (He said, as if he hadn’t started on lecturing her already; as if that didn’t just make it sound like he meant to pick it up again later.)
