[ Claude watches this all go on, and he does a great job of hiding how most of it bothers him. It's the sort of true neutral he assumes when he's three glasses of white wine into a cocktail party, the sort of polite disdain he wears when he introduces himself to everyone who wouldn't even bother acknowledging his existence if not for the fact that Gus was the one who invited him over.
He misinterprets Iona's fidgeting for some residual embarrassment that stems from residual affection for an old friend. She's entitled to it, of course, so his reaction is irrational.
He hates it. He never used to be so personally affected by who was cavorting around with who. ]
I feel outnumbered.
[ A thin smile, and he raises a brow. Perfectly cultured, with his back straight and his gift still in his pocket.
He tries to make pointed eye contact with Oren, to no avail. ]
Come now, my week can't be as interesting as the empty space of time you two spent away from one another. Surely you won't be rude and keep me from rubbernecking.
no subject
He misinterprets Iona's fidgeting for some residual embarrassment that stems from residual affection for an old friend. She's entitled to it, of course, so his reaction is irrational.
He hates it. He never used to be so personally affected by who was cavorting around with who. ]
I feel outnumbered.
[ A thin smile, and he raises a brow. Perfectly cultured, with his back straight and his gift still in his pocket.
He tries to make pointed eye contact with Oren, to no avail. ]
Come now, my week can't be as interesting as the empty space of time you two spent away from one another. Surely you won't be rude and keep me from rubbernecking.