( Her flat tone does nothing to lighten Edmund's mood — he stares at her with a resentment that hasn't belonged on his face since he was ten years old.
His anger has always been cold where Peter's was hot, taking its place in shadows and silence. Perhaps the fit of temper he shows in sweeping the parcels from the table is a subconscious attempt to make up for what he's missing most. )
Throw them into the street. ( The sharp movement again pulls his wounds taut; he welcomes the blunted ache of it. ) I don't want any of it.
no subject
His anger has always been cold where Peter's was hot, taking its place in shadows and silence. Perhaps the fit of temper he shows in sweeping the parcels from the table is a subconscious attempt to make up for what he's missing most. )
Throw them into the street. ( The sharp movement again pulls his wounds taut; he welcomes the blunted ache of it. ) I don't want any of it.