Anduin feels the backs of his eyes burn and he does not know whether it is out of anguish or frustration. Perhaps, he supposes upon reflection, it may be some combination of the both. Regardless, he cannot sit here and continue to argue this point. Here in this room, where he had fought to drag Wrathion to safety. Where he and Hermione had done their best to try and soothe his fears and calm his nerves, and nothing seemed to be enough.
He is so tired of feeling like he will never be enough.
Anduin sits back in his seat, his face closing off tight.
"Of course," he says, his own voice very carefully neutral. "You nearly transformed in the middle of that staircase, but. No. I suppose you were right. No permanent damage done."
He moves to push himself to stand. "You should get some rest."
no subject
Anduin feels the backs of his eyes burn and he does not know whether it is out of anguish or frustration. Perhaps, he supposes upon reflection, it may be some combination of the both. Regardless, he cannot sit here and continue to argue this point. Here in this room, where he had fought to drag Wrathion to safety. Where he and Hermione had done their best to try and soothe his fears and calm his nerves, and nothing seemed to be enough.
He is so tired of feeling like he will never be enough.
Anduin sits back in his seat, his face closing off tight.
"Of course," he says, his own voice very carefully neutral. "You nearly transformed in the middle of that staircase, but. No. I suppose you were right. No permanent damage done."
He moves to push himself to stand. "You should get some rest."