[ The pain sets in that Wriothesley being one of the few people with a vested interest in him without asking for anything... presents problems. He can't ignore the interest in his mind, how Wriothesley had crept his way into fantasies and the bitterness he had for him eased away like a bruise.

Lyney's still catching his breath, his legs spread and that cock so undeniably defined pinned tight under his clothing. Everything is indicating how badly Lyney wants the Duke, how walls fell down and frustrations boil over. But fingers loosen around a tie and Wriothesley's replaces it. ]

I worry too much. Me. [ He thinks worry would have kept him angry and out of this room but here he is. Unable to say no to the man, just as Wriothesley called it. ] They report to you... do you mean you may not be lenient?

[ Technicalities. For every time Wriothesley lost in cards, he certainly reminded Lyney that the rules change on the fly here when Wriothesley finds them both suitable. But, the boy can read the room. Slouched back with the edge of the desk digging into his back, he knows he needs to move.

This kind of raw experience sits in his heart, unable to fully process what was happening. ]

I'm going to get up, dust myself off... and go, then. As you always do, you frustrate me. [ Makes him question everything. Even with his admittance of withdrawing – Lyney sounds like he didn't want to. There's a sadness still in his eyes, heavy enough to cast a shadow in such a warmth. ] Probably kick myself when I get to bed, but...

[ His fingers drag over Wriothesley's knuckle, thoughtful. ]

You're not as cold as I thought you would be.