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Marcus Flint (marcedflint) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Marcus smiled slightly at her observation, because that really was the point. "Yeah, it it," he confirmed, and then frowned when he saw her tears, even if they hadn't quite fallen yet. Without knowing what had caused that reaction - and unsure if asking for an explanation would make it worse - he silently wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, pressing a brief kiss to her curls.

"Trust me, the honour is mine," he muttered back. After all, it had been Bryony's letters and drawings that had helped him from succumbing to the darkness of his own mind in Azkaban, and to be able to carry that reminder around with him at all times, especially while removing the Mark and its bad associations, was an absolute blessing.

"C'mon, lunch won't make itself," he said lightly after a moment, pulling back slightly to smile down at her.