The hot-tempered brunet unlocked the door quickly and slammed it behind him. He really hoped Walden didn't follow all the way, Gareth feeling burdened by his own emotions and his having thrown them onto another person like fruit at one in a stockade. In his quarters he sat on the bed by the window that was there, and he stared at the deep blue in the distance for the little time he had before Walden showed, unbeknownst to Gareth. He wondered what he was thinking, doing what he did back in the great hall, for he merely complicated things for himself further. Truly, he thought, it was a shame he was putting Walden through his melodrama.