[Quentin says, as fear rushes cold and slippery down his spine and Julia whispers from the fire again, hope so bright in her voice it kind of makes Quentin feel like a dick for not answering.]
Of course I'm not talking to the fire, what kind of-- uh, what kind of idiot do you think I am? Talking to the fire? No, that's not. That didn't happen.
[And he tries to look affronted and insulted, but probably just looks scared and confused and very much like he's lying, heart racing in his chest as he tries to shake it off.]
I- uh, hi? Do I know you? You sound-- you sound familiar, somehow?
no subject
[Quentin says, as fear rushes cold and slippery down his spine and Julia whispers from the fire again, hope so bright in her voice it kind of makes Quentin feel like a dick for not answering.]
Of course I'm not talking to the fire, what kind of-- uh, what kind of idiot do you think I am? Talking to the fire? No, that's not. That didn't happen.
[And he tries to look affronted and insulted, but probably just looks scared and confused and very much like he's lying, heart racing in his chest as he tries to shake it off.]
I- uh, hi? Do I know you? You sound-- you sound familiar, somehow?