 Irish eyes || Nanny McPhee
It was funny that he'd come here. Of all places on the grounds to get fresh air, Damien cane to sit in the courtyard. He was still trying to process his own thoughts and feelings, but to no avail. The image of Isobel kissing another guy was still burned in his mind.
And again he found himself having this conversation with himself. Why should he care? He had no claim on her, nor had they spoked of any feelings other than friendship (if even that).
So why care?
Heaving a heavy sigh, the Hufflepuff ran his hand back and fourth through his hair, as if hoping the answer would fall from his scalp.
Even though the weather had turned warm and had been that way for quite some time, Damien still wore his leather jacket; hands burried deep inside the pockets as he paced back and fourth around the courtyard, concentrating on his footsteps in an effort to clear his mind. |