"I didn't know you liked flat things. Hope some more rounded ones are also interesting," he joked, though Zacharias wasn't exactly jealous. Well, he was, but more because he'd been lonely and would have given a lot for company. That, naturally, was Zacharias' fault. He was famous for his prickliness, which some found entertaining, but more found exhausting. He only had himself to blame, and yet he couldn't help himself half the time.
Zacharias' house was pretty typical for old manors. Perhaps charmed less cold, but way too empty. The giant paintings of Zacharias everywhere was a little embarrassing, though he didn't think Anthony noticed. He wasn't really sure the order of the afternoon once they arrived at the pool house, and was about to ask of he fancied a swim when he found himself turned, Anthony's fist grabbing his shirt and pulling him close. The order went right to Zacharias' head (well, both...), and he kissed him back in surprise, his breath leaving him. It was over too fast, and Zacharias was nearly shivering in the wake of it.
"I...I was afraid. I'm not good like you lot are. All I could think about was the fact that I wasn't strong enough. That I'd have to be saved and then someone would die because of me." It was the most honest Zacharias had ever been. He wasn't sure where the honesty or lack of bluster came from, except Anthony had so disarmed him. "I couldn't have lived with that. With being the reason someone was dead."