Barty was certain that, with that look in her eye, Rora was about to hex his bollocks off. She didn't, though, and he still almost wished she had at least tried. Perhaps he wouldn't be so hard on himself if she would just allow herself to be mad at him, to yell at him, hex him, whatever she needed to do. Maybe he deserved to be forgiven, but definitely not to be forgiven easily. He caught the underlying threat in her words, though, but he didn't touch on them, didn't want to actually think about the ramifications of them.
He kissed her back, though; one arm going around the small of her back as the other hand curled its fingers into her blonde hair. Pulling back when she did, he moved to rest his head on her shoulder, tilting his chin to press his lips against the cool skin of her neck. "You should be making me beg for mercy, Rory. Making me beg for your forgiveness. Salazar knows I don't deserve it."