[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190120/b458a81531631a6916fa9413063c5f80.png[/img][/center]
That perfect smile Lilie gave him made Aaron’s little facade of nonchalance worth every bit of energy he put into it, but there wasn’t much time to savour the warm feeling in his chest as a flash of red caught his attention. It was Varis, at long last, clearly blinded and being led over by—oh, why did it have to be William? Aaron had barely caught sight of the man since that embarrassing display on opening night, and now that he finally got the chance to see him again, it was under equally (or perhaps even more) unfavourable conditions. Aaron had hoped he’d get the chance to see William without Varis around, maybe set some records straight about what he might have heard floating around about him throughout the term, but it seemed that fate was habitually unkind. 

But there was no time to dwell on that. Varis was making his way over at a snail’s pace, but every step he inched closer felt like the slow build of an approaching storm. He kept his composure dignified like he had on the bus, but Aaron was no stranger to the waves of absolute hatred that rolled off his master when he was forced to hold himself together; Varis was [i]seething[/i]. His expression was carefully neutral, but tension still shone in every feature of his face (not that his pitch black eyes weren’t enough of an indicator already) and for all the stately confidence he forced into his steps, his grip on William was iron. 

It took a conscious effort not to back away when the pair finally arrived—not that Varis would know, Aaron supposed, but it was bad form nonetheless. Still, he felt an awful lot like a man in the path of a freight train. His suspicions were confirmed when Varis finally released William; Aaron could see the shadows of bruises just starting to form on William’s forearm where the Count’s fingers had been. For his part, William didn’t react, but a flash of guilt and irritation both rose up in Aaron nonetheless. 

He took Varis’ arm when it was offered, guiding the Count’s hand to his forearm similarly to how he’d been holding onto William. He regretted it immediately, having to bite back a hiss as Varis latched onto his arm with inhuman force—good lord, no wonder William had bruises—but there was no time to respond before Varis launched into a speech on the shameful complaisancy of the masses. William shot Aaron a flat look full of some combination of exasperation and disbelief; he almost looked like his mother when Dora and Clara bickered, and here Aaron was, caught in the middle of it. He returned William’s look with a pained apology written all over his face, though he didn't dare voice it; he was sure the embarrassment clear in his eyes was enough. 

[color=f0d705]“Absolutely shameful, Master,”[/color] Aaron concurred quietly, nodding his silent thanks to William as the man returned to his duties. He glanced around sheepishly, vainly hoping that no one else noticed Varis’ display, but of course that was too much to hope for. His little speech, while directed at Aaron, had been loud enough for most everyone nearby to hear, and drew looks from a few mages down the line (and presumably their vampires as well, even if they couldn’t quite face the right direction to listen in). Aaron caught Lilie’s sympathetic look and returned what he hoped was a reassuring one, but which was probably more apologetic than anything, before turning his attention back to Varis. 

[color=f0d705]“We’re about to begin, Master,”[/color] he informed him, carefully filtering the pain from his voice as his arm was slowly crushed. [color=f0d705]“Are you feeling alright?”[/color] 
[right][sub]Trying his best to quell Hurricane Varis [@Achronum][/sub][/right]