The noise that Octavius emitted was somewhere between "no, it's all right, as I understand you were in a state of unconsciousness" and a disbelieving snort because there were the several days beforehand where, to the best of his knowledge, she in fact had been cognizant. He dropped her wrist and stepped slightly away, just to the side, and rubbed the back of his neck.
"You could have told me you didn't know what to think. I mean, this," he gestured frustratedly between the two of them, and after a quick look around, lowered his voice, "isn't something I'm that familiar with, either! We're both adults; if you had thought it was a mistake, I'd have accepted it!" Well, his ego would have been terribly bruised, and he'd probably have nursed secretive hurt feelings while maintaining an outwardly indifferent persona for quite sometime, but it still would have been handled!
He expelled a long breath, giving the impression of pinching the bridge of his nose without actually doing so. "I mean, are you—all right? I read about it… I don't actually know what happened, but it must've been bad." No need to mention he'd actually found himself at St. Mungo's and poorly passing himself off her brother in a fit of panicked confusion.
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