Jaymes’ lips part as you cross his field of vision, his eyes widening out of their fatigue. You’re halted in the middle of the mess hall, muttering out half-hearted apologies instinctively to any dukes who trip over the rats swarming at your feet.

He does not understand, what are you doing here? The critters only flock to you when you are about to do something reckless and stupid and just generally a terrible idea; Hells, he should know, he was the one who charmed the damn rats in the first place. Still, he sees no reason for you to be returning to Wyrm’s Rock. You have no business here, and there is nothing left for you to uncover in him now that he has ended whatever the two of you had.

He doesn’t realize he’s been staring at you dumbly until the dukes’ voices begin to flow through his ears again, incessant demands and hubristic discussions. You look as though you’re looking for someone and from the way your gaze flits over him with no intention of pausing, he does not think it’s him you are searching for. He pushes the faint twinge of disappointment that tugs at his heart and falters away from the dukes surrounding him; he knows one of them will give him an earful regardless.