"Because you are the bleeding angel o' death." He murmured under his breath, rolling his eyes. He knew he could be a bit of a pain in the arse but so could she. It was what had them bickering so often and really, she deserved it half the time. She'd been too seriously lately!
Seamus pressed his lips together, frowning even as he cast another paranoid look over her shoulder. "Why is it always me? Seamus, there's a flock o' birds aiming for your head. What did you do?" He mimicked the last time he had been accused of causing trouble. Though it had turned out to be his fault after all... This time it was hardly his fault. "Yeh know, sometimes people are just arses to be arses. Twit threw a fit when I knocked over some sodding perfume and screamed that it was expensive. You know, it wouldn't have happened without my shoes. They're my lucky shoes."
They had been his only shoes, actually. He shifted in place nervously, yelping when he felt the quill bit sink farther in. A low curse escaped.