"For Christ's sake, Eva." Not long after Zap had vacated the couch, and removed the cigarette from his hand - Warren was also on his feet. He paced away from Eva, to allow room for his wings to stretch out in frustration. "Please allow me the luxury to joke about the situation." He turned, hands squarely planted on either sides of his hips. "We are not planning a bloody trip right now." He huffed, ever more confused by his wife's reaction. He'd been down the rabbit hole with Eva before, but this seemed to be a new level of wonderland. One within the heir had yet to find his footing.
Hands ran through his blond hair, he hadn't expected his story to magically cure the problem. Just as he hadn't expected a trip to Italy to suddenly solve the problem that had become their marriage. Call it her body language, or her tone, but something had struck a flat key with Warren. "Evangeline... have I overplayed the concerned and forgiving husband role? Perhaps I have allowed myself to dip too far into the background." He slowly moved closer to Eva, steps so purposeful a Johnny Cash song should have played underneath them. "Let me quell any lingering doubts you may have. Possessive and vindictive are well within my repertoire."
He'd closed the distance and was now close enough to feel the warm breath that escaped from her nose. "You're worried about Ren, of course we are." He blinked the moisture away from his mutation-enhanced eyes, and wouldn't let it derail him. "You're worried about Dawson, fine." That was fair - they'd both put him in harm's way. "Tell me. How much of this time have you been fretting about Ronan?" A certain bit of distaste exposed itself when the name Ronan slipped through his lips. "Is the man, who wanted to murder me and my partner, higher or lower on the list than our marriage of things to worry about?" His fingers crawled up the front of his shirt and grabbed handfuls of the excess fabric between his neck and shoulders. "Tell me, Eva. Because honest to God, I'm in the weeds with Ronan fucking Murphy. I don't know whether to hope for his speedy recovery or kick the door down and strangle him with a power cord." The winged man was capable of either.