"Ideas," he muttered. "My ideas. All ours. Won't be shared, no they won't, we won't share. Not yet."
He smiled then, almost pleasantly and without any ill contempt behind the uplifting of his lips. Then he looked confused, drew himself away from her quick and stumbled backward. There was one last wild fluctuation of color in his eyes and then they were as blue as day, if that could even be noticed in the dim lighting.
He opened his mouth to say something, reached up to feel his scratched throat and felt sick suddenly. Without another word, Astrophel made a dash for the door and left.