[ His eyes snap up to meet Thorne's, his face twisted with uncertainty and fear and anguish and doubt. But of course. What answer did he expect other than that? Thorne hates him, after all. And by asking, he gave them a little hook to put under his skin, a string to draw tight and yank at him whenever they wanted. Stupid. Stupid. He's always doing these sorts of things to himself, even though he knows better. He just can't help it...
He looks off to the side, jaw clenched, fists clenched. ]
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He looks off to the side, jaw clenched, fists clenched. ]
Fine. Then I won't take you to Miles.