"Finn!" It wasn't clear if the exclamation in her voice was a reprimand for the foul language or frustration at his answer. From the wide-eyed look on Joy's face, it could have been either--maybe both. Her hand tightened around his wrist and she pulled towards her, despite the fact that she knew she could never hope to physically move a professional Quidditch player from his spot.
He was so---he was so---how could he say that! She had just watched him drown himself in a shower and mope around for a day, and now he was telling her that there was nothing to talk about. Did he think she was stupid?
Cormac responded to the nudging by looking up at his father, his eyes clearly following Joy's arm as he did so and it seemed for the first time he could tell that something was not right. The boy looked back and forth between them, unseen by his mother, who had determined eyes locked on Finn.
"Cut the crap, seriously. You don't get to block me out."
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