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Marcus Flint (marcedflint) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

It had taken Marcus a while to get readjusted to these sorts of casual touches, to the fact that not every gesture was a precursor to violence. The war and Azkaban had left their marks on his psyche, and it had taken time before he'd stopped flinching away from anyone who reached out to him. He considered it a sign that things had changed for the better that his only reaction to Roger's playful punch was another slight roll of his eyes. A part of him was desperately curious about whatever thought had made the other man blush, even as he reminded himself that it wasn't any of his business.

Listening closely, Marcus thought he could intellectually understand Roger's reasoning, even if his own childhood had been quite different than the one Roger described. "Sometimes blending in is the path of least resistance," he agreed with a slight nod of his head. Of course, it was that sort of thinking that had landed him in prison, but even now, after having years to contemplate it, Marcus didn't think he would have done anything different - after all, he'd managed to survive mostly intact, which had been his driving motivation in the first place.

He was so absorbed by both his own, slightly dark thoughts, and the innocent touch of Roger's leg against his own that it took him a moment to understand what the other man was saying. Ruthlessly crushing the part of him that wanted to twist the words into Roger asking him for a date, he shook his head as he answered, "I didn't have anything particular planned." Trying to lighten the mood, he continued with a small smirk, "And I've never been very good at the simpering thing."