There was a loud thump as Jordan slammed her door shut. In the length of time since the Secrets Board fiasco, she'd kept herself sequestered in her room with a stack of spellbooks and scared house elves brought her food. Whenever she wasn't studying, she was sleeping, eating, or bitching. Only so much time could be spent in seclusion, and she
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There might have been a slight emphasis placed on 'life', but nothing more there that was detectible. With that, she downed the drink and, to her credit, did not even flinch despite the fact her esophagus was now on fire. There was something to be said for this alcohol over drinks that tasted like candy - less likely to down as many when one's throat felt like this. She set the glass down on the counter and grinned widely at Stephen, the look almost slightly cat-like, as if pleased with herself despite not being completely pleased with him at present.
Attention turned to Jordan, her gaze steady with her smile still in place. Trust was required to believe things like what she was nearly certain Jordan was seeming to say in a look, and right now trust was not exactly overflowing for Jordan or even Stephen. She refused, however, to think about what would have been had she not shown up. She would make certain Stephen knew it had not been at all appreciated.
Besides, were she feeling truly threatened right now, rather than annoyed at the roving eye of the man she was leaning against, this would all be going much differently.
((reposted because I lose at refreshing the page!))
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For that matter, he would have done well not to offer Homsar wine when the marshmallowy professor showed up for his office hours.
As faux pas went, being caught calling Cox's former wife beautiful was a long shot from falling off a ship, which Stephen had done rather too many times in his quasi-naval career. All the same, he was sensible of having committed an offense. The best thing to do would be to change the subject now and send flowers later; though sending flowers to a woman with whom one shared quarters was damnably awkward, as there was not much point in having them sent when one was as likely to receive the delivery as the lady for whom they were intended...
Musing about this did nothing to change the subject. He cleared his throat.
"To focus," he agreed, and drank. "Without which, might I add, the talking cats would still be asking after their potion. Miss Sullivan, had you known the talking cats here will be changing into humans? They had requested a potion for it, and I could not have developed it myself. Miss Williams made a breakthrough that allowed it."
He beamed. There was flattery! (That Stephen considered this in fact more significant flattery than merely commenting on beauty was perhaps indicative of his nerdiness character.)
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