He was almost too broken to listen, but the words somehow slipped through anyway. Monty and I never discuss work. His eyes shooting up, he stared at Miles. 'Monty's a...' He closed his eyes. No wonder Guilian was. Was Uncle Don in on it too?
He could feel his jaws clenching at the mere thought. 'It seems I'm not the only one keeping secrets,' he said sourly. Feeling his pain slip over to anger as Miles went on, wanting to snap that he'd chosen his problem, that he'd invited them in when he chose to become a Death Eater.
He held his tongue though, as he'd long since learnt to do with his friends. It was always better never to speak. 'I need to get out of here,' he said instead, getting up before the urge to throw up became too strong.
He wanted more than anything to return home, to find Percy and curl up next to him and tell him over and over again that he loved him. Tell him enough that he'd remember it, knew it, even when he broke his heart. But he knew that was a vain hope, knew that Percy would never believe what he had said once he'd betrayed him. And yet he needed to tell him what he'd so far hadn't. For his own sake he needed to voice what he'd voiced to others but that he somehow had never got around to tell Percy. If only to know that he'd said it. That he didn't settle for Percy just knowing.
He'd beg and plead if he had to, he'd pull out every trick in the book. He'd get Percy to agree to come to Italy with him. A perfect vacation - if only for a night - a night where he could show him and tell him how he felt before he went on to break his heart and trust - and his own in the process.
'How long do I have before I have to make a report?' he asked, all business now, fighting back the tears. Men don't cry - only he wanted to. He wanted to cry and scream and rage against the world. But he wouldn't. Not until he was alone. He'd pretend until then.