“God, I swear…” Francis was muttering, shooting a withering glare at Bunny’s retreating back. Bunny just finished absolutely humiliating Francis in front of you, questioning his view on “those gays” (as he put it) and loudly wondering why Francis had never had a girlfriend. Sure, he’d gotten some jabs in on you too but his focus for today seemed to be the fuming redhead standing beside you.

Francis sighed, unclenching his jaw and looking off to the side, away from you. His pale cheeks were slightly flushed, though whether from anger or embarrassment or just the chill late-winter air was unclear.

“The things I would do to that man if he didn’t…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. The threat of Bunny telling someone, anyone, about what you as a group had done was enough to silence any and all protest against his frankly despicable behaviour as of late. More so than normal, he was rude, manipulative, leeching—all with a grin on his face as he watched you guys squirm.

“Never mind that. Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? I had asked Henry but you know how he’s been.” He turned back to look at you, expression showing none of the anger he had just expressed.