"I don't want you to," he gave her a sad smile. "You can just ignore me, if you'd like."
Derek leaned against the side of the wall, worrying the edge of his robe sleeves, staring fixedly at some crawling spot on the ground. "I got there at the end," he offered. "In law enforcement capacity, with the Ministry. He—he went down fighting, til the end. You would have been proud." It was a difficult position, being the significant other of an Order of the Phoenix member. Just because he'd been made an ally did not mean he had forgotten what it was like to be on the other side, to know but never know for certain. To be missing the details, to be unable to understand why or how these children, misguided adults, downright stupid people, thought they could make a difference.
"They have one of them—the ones responsible. I don't imagine you've heard yet, if you've been—but it doesn't look good for him. I wouldn't be surprised if they got him to trial by mid-month."
Eyes rising slowly to see Bess, to see how she was taking in the information—if she was, at all—Derek gave her a hard look, trying to understand what was running through her head. "You don't have to feel poorly, for feeling mad at—Fabian," he cut his teeth on the name, because the realization that he was dead had not sunk in for even Derek, yet. But it took weeks for him to be able to think Dorcas's name, let alone say it—that sort of thing wasn't healthy, not for anyone. "I never stopped being mad at Dorcas. I feel other things, of course, but…I'll always hate her, just a little, for leaving me."
He was talking at her, he had to have been saying too much. He fiddled tugged unhappily at the cloth around his neck.
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
