More dramatics, more hysterics. It's embarrassing for all of them. Isidor doesn't need to glance around to know there are people staring, and people awkwardly, determinedly, staring at whatever task they're working on. They don't really have time for this, but Heather wants to rant and rave, so Isidor lets her.
In the face of Heather's maternal fury Isidor watches, eyebrows raised ever so slightly, eyelids lax, pointedly unfazed by it all. With all the men and women from all the countries that have taken issue with her, she can handle this with ease.
That's when Heather pokes her chest.
She touches her.
Isidor's eyes flash, fixing her furious wide eyes firmly on Heather. Her muscles tense, and it takes everything in her not to give Heather a reason to never lay a hand on a Durant again. Even Lyall, who had been keeping his distance, tenses, wincing at the sight of it. Just as he starts to approach, Isidor's clenched jaw opens.
"Get. Your finger. Off of me." Whether or not she does, Isidor will give her a reason to. The tip of Heather's finger warms, rapidly, until suddenly it burns like the metal of a stove. "Take a step back. And apologise."
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In the face of Heather's maternal fury Isidor watches, eyebrows raised ever so slightly, eyelids lax, pointedly unfazed by it all. With all the men and women from all the countries that have taken issue with her, she can handle this with ease.
That's when Heather pokes her chest.
She touches her.
Isidor's eyes flash, fixing her furious wide eyes firmly on Heather. Her muscles tense, and it takes everything in her not to give Heather a reason to never lay a hand on a Durant again. Even Lyall, who had been keeping his distance, tenses, wincing at the sight of it. Just as he starts to approach, Isidor's clenched jaw opens.
"Get. Your finger. Off of me." Whether or not she does, Isidor will give her a reason to. The tip of Heather's finger warms, rapidly, until suddenly it burns like the metal of a stove. "Take a step back. And apologise."