He managed to keep the wince off his face, though he was certain his brow furrowed from the pain. He knew she was strong but at this point he didn't care. He shrugged, looking down at the letter as he folded it again, to keep his eyes from hers. He was sure she would be able to discern his emotional pain if he looked at her just now. Sticking the letter back into his pocket, he looked back up at her.
"I don't understand you, Isobel," he complained, "you claim that your this cold, hard bitch. But then you write this to me. Is it your intention to rip my heart out at every turn? Is that part of your 'vampiric' nature now?" He had gained back some of his courage and anger, and glared at her. He crossed his arms over his chest as he awaited her response.