Charles could press the point, or reshape it into compromise, determinedly use it to try and dig into all the nooks and crannies of Severus' manner to dig out what he wants to know--
--or maybe this is just the product of old frustration made new again, that he can't just read the other man's mind and manhandle this conversation the way he wants it to be. There is a relenting kind of affect in glance down at cigarette, remembering it, taking a pull of smoke before blunt nails graze along the scraggle at his jaw.
"I did," he concedes. "I just don't wish to be your patient forever."
But there is a lack of reproach in his tone. He's old enough and wise enough to know that the only person who can determine how long he is anyone's patient is going to be himself, in the long run, technicalities aside. He watches ashes burn, and thinks of hot pliers.
no subject
--or maybe this is just the product of old frustration made new again, that he can't just read the other man's mind and manhandle this conversation the way he wants it to be. There is a relenting kind of affect in glance down at cigarette, remembering it, taking a pull of smoke before blunt nails graze along the scraggle at his jaw.
"I did," he concedes. "I just don't wish to be your patient forever."
But there is a lack of reproach in his tone. He's old enough and wise enough to know that the only person who can determine how long he is anyone's patient is going to be himself, in the long run, technicalities aside. He watches ashes burn, and thinks of hot pliers.