The wheel slowed as Marcus raised two fingers in silent commentary to Isaac, not looking at him. "You're a good fuck." The words come out slowly, feeling as tangled as the fine strands of wool were as they became yarn. "Don't like feeling kept. 'M not your bloody girlfriend." Half a lie... Isaac was a bloody brilliant fuck, and Marcus was starting to get used to the idea, which only irritated him further.
"Again, didn't think I had a choice. Thought you were already living here." Here being the manor, not the particular room. "Don't see a point keeping you out of here now. Just don't touch my shite. Ever. You arse up a project, that's it." Not the books; he'd already told Isaac to go ahead there. But this... this was Marc's peace. He didn't need it fucked with.