Slouching on the sofa, I twiddled my fingers, not really bothering to enter in the conversation. Truthfully, it didn't intrigue me that much and I wasn't in the mood to play along or pretend that I was interested.
Marc walked in. I glanced briefly up and him only to return my gaze to my fingers. I felt really horrible. I could see Marc's point of view and I had hated to go up against him and see the "other side" of him. Partially I felt upset at myself; I thought defending Charley was the right thing. Now I thought I probably screwed up the best relationship I've ever had. He was like my best friend. I loved him more than anyone (well, excluding my family which is a give-in...). And I felt like I had stabbed him in the back and ruined everything.
He sat over with Eoin and Alexander across the room. I shifted on the couch, taking a pillow in my embrace. I felt like I should go over and say something to him. Though I didn't know what.
He caught me looking at him. I immeaditly flicked my eyes away--guilt was probably written all over me but still I didn't regret my belief that Charley should've been defended.
Charley then soon came in the room, and took the spot by my side. A thoughtful expression played on her face, but she still gave me a quick half smile. "So," I began in an undertone, so that only Charley could hear while the conversation was still going on. "We're decided on our talent, then?"
"If you could call it that," she muttered, smirking mildly.
I chuckled lightly. "Hopefully that piano will appear again."
She laughed slightly, and then turned to what everbody was talking about. I stole another glance at Marc, who was chatting with Eoin. Everything appeared resolved on the outside, but I didn't feel it on the inside.