Bryony Capper (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} goodlight) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
There were many things Bryony wanted to say about racing, and how exciting it must be to watch, but none of them would come out. Instead, she had to ignore a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She supposed technically she was free to go to as many Quidditch matches as she liked now, or to develop an interest in racing. It wouldn't matter, her reputation was beyond ruined already, what difference could it make? The realisation wasn't as liberating as she felt it should be, so she just nodded, smiling the polite but not truly interested smile her sisters had always worn while their brother talked about Quidditch.
"Yes," Bryony agreed distantly. "You go on." Wasn't that what she had to do, too? Carry on without the family connection that had always sheltered her. She pulled herself out of the deepening bit of despair and self-pity with a little shake. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm distracted today. I just... hope he'll be okay." She glanced at Rich's glass. "Would you like another drink?"