The tick in Izzy’s jaw flares as it clenches a few times. Be cool. Be normal about this. Be super super normal about this and not at all a giant piss baby about losing his goal for the future and now also his protégé.

To some fucking (blind?) bird he’s never even heard of before.

Darcy is torturing him. That must be it. She’s playing chess.

Izzy crosses his arms over his chest, and when he speaks the strain is audible.

“And…are you…actually considering her offer?”