The problem was that while Grayson Wilkes was quite cool and serious most of the time, he also was not particularly patient when it came to figuring out what someone else was thinking -- especially when he thought that they were acting very strange.
He furrowed his brows and glanced over his own book to where Ophelia was shifting (for the fifth bloody time in about as many minutes) herself in the chair. After a moment of consideration, he closed the book completely and walked over to her, setting a hand on her shoulder and arching his brow.
Hopefully this wasn't about the honeymoon, because he'd thought it had gone quite incredibly well. "Do you think we ought to be getting more comfortable chairs? You aren't being terribly subtle about it if that's what you're trying to get at." Because Grayson honestly couldn't think of any other reason for her to be squirming like some sort of twelve-year old child in detention with a Hogwarts Professor.
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