[ Harry's mouth hardens into a tight line, and he nods. As angry as he is at his father for all the ways he's wronged him, as angry as he is at the burdens that were placed upon him by Norman's death... He still hasn't really gotten a chance to grieve. So to hear someone offer condolences, even if that someone didn't know the same Norman Osborn that Harry knewβΒ maybe especially because they weren't the sameβ it... helps. Somewhat. ]
...Thank you.
[ He swallows, even though his mouth is feeling dry. He suddenly feels the desperate need to get out of this conversation. So he stands, hands nervously smoothing out the front of his jeans, looking around as though deciding where else in this vast, empty white space he's going to go. It really doesn't matter. He just needs to not be here anymore. ]
no subject
...Thank you.
[ He swallows, even though his mouth is feeling dry. He suddenly feels the desperate need to get out of this conversation. So he stands, hands nervously smoothing out the front of his jeans, looking around as though deciding where else in this vast, empty white space he's going to go. It really doesn't matter. He just needs to not be here anymore. ]
I should, ah. I should be going.