"Aye. 'Cause one, I like you, two, John likes you and three, I've 'ad floods make me do 'orrible things to my friends and it's the opposite of a good time."
This is, she reflects, as much news to Roman as it has been to John.
"You know it's not your fault but something hurt your friend and used you to do it. Or actually, Petronilla did 'cause she's the sort of girl that yells Fire in crowded theatres. She weren't even aiming at you."
Roman half glares, even if there's no actual malice in his gaze. He's tired, and Iris isn't worth it, and he's still trying desperately to cling to the bravado that he doesn't actually give a shit.
"Yeah, well, thanks, I guess." It's flat, and he wrinkles his nose.
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This is, she reflects, as much news to Roman as it has been to John.
"You know it's not your fault but something hurt your friend and used you to do it. Or actually, Petronilla did 'cause she's the sort of girl that yells Fire in crowded theatres. She weren't even aiming at you."
no subject
"Yeah, well, thanks, I guess." It's flat, and he wrinkles his nose.
"...John likes me, huh? Still?"