For Sagramore

[all_that_grace]

Courfeyrac happens to be on his way upstairs -- alone, notably -- his hands tucked in his pockets, with an abstracted air.

Comments

[le_desirous]

Sagramore is coming down, not a little angry, his sword slapping against his hip, his manner taut.

[all_that_grace]

Courfeyrac moves instinctively out of his way, startled. "Sir?"

[le_desirous]

"Christ!" slamming his hand down on the stair rail.

[all_that_grace]

He freezes.