Fuck you, Cross Marian. He doesn't want to hear that. He doesn't want to watch Cross process anything. It's unnatural.
Jaw held tight, he pulls the coat properly around his shoulders and stalks past Cross and goes to fetch his fallen suitcase, because he doesn't want to look at his Master with that sort of expression. And he doesn't have anything else solid enough to fling at his head. Maybe it'll connect, next time. But whatever else he's feeling, he manages to swallow it down and bury it under a healthy layer of anger, and frustration, with Cross and everything that's happened.
And so he takes his time brushing the snow off of his only possession, before facing him again. Quite a way indeed.
Where does he even start? The tables really have turned, maybe he shouldn't turn them back. Maybe he should keep his own cards close to his chest this time. After all, he's Cross Marian's student, isn't he. (And it's come to a point where it's something he can proclaim, with pride.)
Except Cross is a dead man and it's his fault that he knows, now.
They can't have this conversation back home, this may be his only chance.
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Fuck you, Cross Marian. He doesn't want to hear that. He doesn't want to watch Cross process anything. It's unnatural.
Jaw held tight, he pulls the coat properly around his shoulders and stalks past Cross and goes to fetch his fallen suitcase, because he doesn't want to look at his Master with that sort of expression. And he doesn't have anything else solid enough to fling at his head. Maybe it'll connect, next time. But whatever else he's feeling, he manages to swallow it down and bury it under a healthy layer of anger, and frustration, with Cross and everything that's happened.
And so he takes his time brushing the snow off of his only possession, before facing him again. Quite a way indeed.
Where does he even start? The tables really have turned, maybe he shouldn't turn them back. Maybe he should keep his own cards close to his chest this time. After all, he's Cross Marian's student, isn't he. (And it's come to a point where it's something he can proclaim, with pride.)
Except Cross is a dead man and it's his fault that he knows, now.
They can't have this conversation back home, this may be his only chance.
So, where to start...] A lot has happened.
I've left the Order.