[centre][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/181008/b02a8e514a847d83c3d8892fffdb6f35.png[/img][/centre][hr]
It was the most expected and honestly generic responses Michael could expect. But it was alright. He simply gave a light smile to all the encouragement around table upon hearing the confession, albeit not to where he was supposed to say it to. Strange, it didn't feel as weird as when he was blurting it out when she was asleep in the White Hart, perhaps because they were all guys, all in the same environment, with the same societal pressure in terms of relationship. Michael wasn't sure of the other levels of society, but to his surrounding's standards, he'd have to be the one to make the move. Be upfront and clear, yet kind and respectful like a gentleman. You were expected to be the opener to everything. Easy to say, but not easy to be that when the time comes, unless you are extremely confident. It wasn't his first time coming to an understanding concepts of romance and relationship too, even though now was his first to bloom for real. He wondered if she actually heard what he said the other day while she was dead drunk and believed it. Didn't seem like it from her behaviors in the week since, but he had half-heartedly wished that could happen. 

But then again, it was still barriered by that rat in a human's costume. There were some new information that did earnestly put a couple of question marks on Michael's thoughts. It was quite a typical backstory for some criminals, but it was some thought-provoking things to reconsider his position, that maybe he was more than a rat. Some of which are a little difficult to swallow.

[color=bf00ff]"Well, that puts some more sympathy to look at him."[/color] Michael rolled his eyes in his effort of dismissal. [color=bf00ff]"But it's not anymore okay."[/color]

Once again, he felt like he was placed in a bonfire. Not from artillery shells or anything, but his own internal fire that threatened to engulf whoever stood in his way. All from the slight mention or reminder of the man's sinful deed. Started out from his chest, then slowly creeping up to his four limbs then his small delicate face soon tensed with a heated aura of anger. But thankfully enough, the topic switched to something else. About Jean and his awkward understanding of love. It was kind of awkward as well, to be honest, but thanks to it, his anger died down fast as he thought of the other situation at hand. 

[color=bf00ff]"They always tell us to be the move maker. At least for me."[/color] Michael said. [color=bf00ff]"But to my own understanding of love, trying to be the right person is better than finding the right person. Don't try too hard, and let them find you instead."[/color]

Everyone said they wanted to find the right person, but no one ever said they wanted to be the right person for anyone. 

[color=bf00ff]"But that's just a viewpoint from an ignorant upper-class citizen."[/color] But then he wittingly stated, a little dryly in case some smartasses were quick to point out their subjectivity, especially in an opinionated thing like love. [color=bf00ff]"A quarter of my day is in my parent's study, so there are stuffs I don't know about the outside world."[/color] 

The subject was then turned to something...perhaps a little unpleasant. 

[color=bf00ff]"Say Jean, only if you're alright with sharing this...well...this is just something I've only heard mentioned of, but...what is the White Feather movement?"[/color]
[@LetMeDoStuff]