( That's.... Unexpected. He finds himself weirdly startled by the revelation — and hasn't spoken to March in a few weeks, not since the attack... He hasn't spoken to a lot of people, really. Things have been strange.
This is strange. He doesn't know why, exactly (well, it is objectively a bit strange to be wearing someone's wedding ring, and the whole matter of wearing a wedding ring around one's neck is also objectively strange, isn't it.)
But that's not why something coils oddly in his gut, combating the more pleasant things that have been swimming there. No, he hasn't spoken with March in some time, hasn't noticed that he's no longer had his usual adornment on.
But why is Wynonna wearing it now...?
She takes his hand again, and like before, he lets her, but his heart's skipping a different sort of beat, something sudden and tight and strained. What's wrong with him? What is this? Why—)
I see. ( Still as polite as ever, reserved for now, though a nervous slickness seems to coat the back of his throat again. )
Forgive me for voicing such a brash observation, but you and Mr. March are quite close, aren't you?
( He's always known that. They remind him of one another, for all their similarities. He can certainly see why they would be drawn to one another. But why does it— why does his stomach ache, suddenly? There's no reason for this. It's almost similar to when he'd noticed her dancing so easily with Mr. Givens, only worse, somehow. )
oh i'm dumb af, pretend i said nothing about hands, march has been wearing it around his NECK...
This is strange. He doesn't know why, exactly (well, it is objectively a bit strange to be wearing someone's wedding ring, and the whole matter of wearing a wedding ring around one's neck is also objectively strange, isn't it.)
But that's not why something coils oddly in his gut, combating the more pleasant things that have been swimming there. No, he hasn't spoken with March in some time, hasn't noticed that he's no longer had his usual adornment on.
But why is Wynonna wearing it now...?
She takes his hand again, and like before, he lets her, but his heart's skipping a different sort of beat, something sudden and tight and strained. What's wrong with him? What is this? Why— )
I see. ( Still as polite as ever, reserved for now, though a nervous slickness seems to coat the back of his throat again. )
Forgive me for voicing such a brash observation, but you and Mr. March are quite close, aren't you?
( He's always known that. They remind him of one another, for all their similarities. He can certainly see why they would be drawn to one another. But why does it— why does his stomach ache, suddenly? There's no reason for this. It's almost similar to when he'd noticed her dancing so easily with Mr. Givens, only worse, somehow. )