Tyb flinched at the force of Elsie’s reaction to that. Things had been rather up and down recently, between the elopement and her pregnancy – it was an emotional time – but this seemed exaggerated even when considering that.
And Tyb had seen Elsie worried and upset and even mad before, but he couldn’t remember a time wherein it had ever been quite so trained upon him. He could have protested that they were supposed to be partners in this, equals, and she oughtn’t be yelling at him like she was his mother; but, perhaps sensibly, Tybalt held his tongue. He chewed over his own rancour in silence.
It was worse that Sebastian was here to witness this, with her threat of kicking him out of bed and all. He thought Elsie generally slept better beside him (he knew he did with her), but this didn’t seem the time to point that out. So, what? He was going to have to suck it up, wasn’t he?
He had been resolutely ignoring Beauregard during Elsie’s little tirade – and if this was her angry, he had no plans to incite this from her again – but now he reluctantly turned back towards him, a little annoyed that Sebastian had offered his hand first. (Elsie would give him the credit for the peacemaking, no doubt.) “My hand,” Tyb muttered in sheepish explanation, as he moved it to shake Sebastian’s but winced and withdrew before he could actually grasp it – Sebastian hadn’t had the chance to heal it yet. Grumbling slightly, he forced himself to utter another apology instead to make up for it. “Yeah – I’m sorry, though.” He glanced at Elsie too. “I am. And I won’t do it again. Happy?” He hadn’t planned to punch Sebastian, and he hadn’t meant to piss off Elsie by it, either.
And Tyb had seen Elsie worried and upset and even mad before, but he couldn’t remember a time wherein it had ever been quite so trained upon him. He could have protested that they were supposed to be partners in this, equals, and she oughtn’t be yelling at him like she was his mother; but, perhaps sensibly, Tybalt held his tongue. He chewed over his own rancour in silence.
It was worse that Sebastian was here to witness this, with her threat of kicking him out of bed and all. He thought Elsie generally slept better beside him (he knew he did with her), but this didn’t seem the time to point that out. So, what? He was going to have to suck it up, wasn’t he?
He had been resolutely ignoring Beauregard during Elsie’s little tirade – and if this was her angry, he had no plans to incite this from her again – but now he reluctantly turned back towards him, a little annoyed that Sebastian had offered his hand first. (Elsie would give him the credit for the peacemaking, no doubt.) “My hand,” Tyb muttered in sheepish explanation, as he moved it to shake Sebastian’s but winced and withdrew before he could actually grasp it – Sebastian hadn’t had the chance to heal it yet. Grumbling slightly, he forced himself to utter another apology instead to make up for it. “Yeah – I’m sorry, though.” He glanced at Elsie too. “I am. And I won’t do it again. Happy?” He hadn’t planned to punch Sebastian, and he hadn’t meant to piss off Elsie by it, either.
