John continued to watch, continued to grip that bar, so close to Harlow's face that when his fingers flexed he nearly brushed the skin of Harlow's cheek. He continued to bow his dark head and narrow his eyes while Harlow vibrated with the most scalding feeling. He didn't show it - couldn't - but John basked in it like Harlow was the sun to a frozen man.
"Alright," he said evenly, potentially infuriating and matter of fact at once. "You cared too much, then." John's voice was the quietest, most reverent, most damning. It was all and nothing, and so hard to read even when you knew him well. Then those dark eyes snapped upwards again and he spoke so Adelaide couldn't hear much just across the way. "I woke up on fire," he said. "And crawled through them all looking for a piece of you. I cared too much."