"I'm not letting you poison me!" So much for voicing concern that she would die in childbirth. How was poisoning her safer? "I'd sooner have you push me down the stairs!" When was the last time she'd been this angry with him? Too long, and yet she wasn't really enjoying it at the moment, she just wanted to throw something heavy at his head.

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| OUTFIT | Tiberius Lestrange |

  

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Her objection was, to his mind, utterly ridiculous. Poison was the cleanest way to handle this sort of thing, and the method with the least risk. That was practically common knowledge, wasn't it? Except it wasn't; it seemed common knowledge to him because he'd already researched this once before. He'd actually poisoned her once before — and it hadn't been as clean or tidy as he'd expected it to be, after all. Not that he would ever tell Antigone what the actual cause of her sudden illness that summer had been, or what he suspected may have been the cause of their deformed child and all the troubles that followed. He didn't know that he and his poison had caused any of it. The illness could have been a secondary complication, with little or nothing to do with his efforts. The child — well, he'd never know one way or the other, so it was pointless to dwell on it.

"I can find one that's safe," he said with grim conviction. Safer than the last one, certainly, although it wasn't as though he'd chosen that one carelessly, either. It had been chosen for its potency and effectiveness, but he hadn't disregarded her safety entirely in its selection.

"Or," he continued with a look that conveyed he was tired of her arguing, "I can push you down the stairs, if you insist."

  

The subject was quickly bringing her to a boiling point. His whole reaction to the news was contrary to what she expected and this frustrated her more than anything else he could have said. Then there was the indecision. She didn't want to be pregnant ever again but now his baffling opposition almost made her want to go through with it just so she could prove him wrong and never let him forget it. If it was a healthy boy. Any other result and she'd have to face an 'I told you so' on top of putting herself through it for nothing. But if it was a boy.

"I've had enough of this talk and enough of you," she snapped viciously, once again vacating the couch in favor of her feet. Tig looked him dead in the eye for a few seconds and then suddenly turned her back to him. With her nearest hand she took a swipe at the nearest thing she could knock to the floor and flounced off towards the door.

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| OUTFIT | Tiberius Lestrange |

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