"It's not what you think it is."
Maxen felt like his long rope of patience snapped upon hearing what Asher had just said. He slowly looked back at Asher.
"It's not what I think it is?" repeated Maxen with a tinge of ridicule. "What do you think I thought it was, Young Master Quinn? Don't make it sound like there's more that had happened; it wouldn't work."
"Strange," Asher replied, assessing Maxen's mood. "You're always so composed, but now you're… angry. You reek of jealousy."
"Jealousy?" Maxen walked to the same spot, facing Asher squarely. "And why would I be jealous? Of who? You? Funny."
Maxen's countenance was calm, but his eyes were fiery. "If this was two years ago, and I met you before Cosette, I wouldn't deny that I'd probably wish to be you, even just for a day. But this conversation is taking place now."
