*Rose had wondered when someone would start in with that shit. Truth be told, Pettigrew's not saying anything she hasn't thought before - she should've known this was coming, should've caught something from Damien, should've listened more closely. She's never been one to throw herself under the bus, but she liked the twins, especially Fabian, and she can't help wondering whether she missed something that let them get killed. Guilt, as it's turning out, doesn't wear well on her, but the anger that flashes up in response is much more familiar.
She's already been thinking it, she's been waiting for someone to say it. But actually hearing it lands like a slap in the face, and when her gaze fixes on Pettigrew there's something a little dangerous and a little haunted in it. She doesn't yell - she never yells, one of the tip-offs to an upbringing involving private tutors and old money - but her drawl is heavily vitriolic.*
Maybe you should spent a little more time on your own assignments and a little less time thinking about who I'm fucking, Pettigrew. Try pinning this on me again. Go ahead.
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Date: 2012-01-02 05:41 am (UTC)She's already been thinking it, she's been waiting for someone to say it. But actually hearing it lands like a slap in the face, and when her gaze fixes on Pettigrew there's something a little dangerous and a little haunted in it. She doesn't yell - she never yells, one of the tip-offs to an upbringing involving private tutors and old money - but her drawl is heavily vitriolic.*
Maybe you should spent a little more time on your own assignments and a little less time thinking about who I'm fucking, Pettigrew. Try pinning this on me again. Go ahead.