"It's not--" about avoiding William, Gabe started to say, in response to Bob, but you know what? It didn't actually matter what Bryar thought, and Gabe wasn't going to waste the time trying to explain when he could just get the fuck out of here, even if it was just into the next room. "I'll wait," he confirmed, jerking a thumb towards Bryar's rooms.
Over Bob's lowered head, Gabe's eyes slid as though drawn to William, pale and bundled up against the wall, but he looked away again before sense memory could do more than skitter down his spine. Not entirely about avoiding William.
The moment Bryar nodded, rocking back on his heels, Gabe was moving, crossing the room, closing the door behind him.
He turned around, and there was a cat watching him, sitting prim and observant on a chair beside a chessboard set to play. And past it, the external door that let out onto the main corridor.
Would Bryar have locked it? Sure, Gabe had promised to wait, but he cared less than fuck-all about that. He took a step towards the door, and the cat stood up, arching its pretty tortoiseshell back and curling its claws into the upholstery of its chair.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Gabe said, stopping again, and the cat sat again, wrapping its tail around its front paws.
What if he was contagious somehow? Not himself - the last thing he wanted right now was to see anyone, let alone fight or fuck them - but carrying somehow? It was after curfew and he'd be going straight to his rooms. Straight past Slytherin, and his kids were so well known for their adherence to rules.
He sat down opposite the chessboard from the cat. "But I'm playing white," he said, spinning the board, and the cat just looked at him. He'd heard stories about Bryar's cat though, and maybe he might still get an actual game of chess out of tonight.
It beat the hell out of pacing in circles chewing his fingernails, anyway.