(no subject)
11 February 2006 07:24 pmIt's a question of the potions packets in the bathroom: they've been moved. And things have been straightened up. And put up. And cleaned.
He's not so sure he can stand it.
"Those were my messes, Sophie. Mine. I don't remember asking you to go into my bath and straighten things up, and don't even think about going upstairs. Shoo. Go on. Busy yourself with things that aren't mine."
He strides across the room to the door, turning it almost casually. This is a good night to be anywhere but here. He straightens out the sleeves of his red-and-silver suit and pulls the door open, disappearing through it to the one place where no one could possibly find him.
He's not so sure he can stand it.
"Those were my messes, Sophie. Mine. I don't remember asking you to go into my bath and straighten things up, and don't even think about going upstairs. Shoo. Go on. Busy yourself with things that aren't mine."
He strides across the room to the door, turning it almost casually. This is a good night to be anywhere but here. He straightens out the sleeves of his red-and-silver suit and pulls the door open, disappearing through it to the one place where no one could possibly find him.