“Tch-” Hand let go of the illusionist’s as he snatched it away, glare evident, even when his eyes were hidden behind a thick fringe, “Forget it; The Prince will just let the Frog flounce off with the illusion bastard so they can live a happy life without the Prince interfering with their little illusion games.” He began to walk once again, knives dropping from his hands and clattering down onto the ground in a small heap.
“Too bad the Prince can’t make illusions, maybe Fran would like him more than Mukuro, then.” It was a growled, spite filled statement, reflecting how jealous the blonde actually was; Inwardly, he felt like he was sharing his love with the former prisoner, and that wasn’t going down with the knife wielder.
“Ah–” The tealette’s hand dropped back to his side as he watched the prince walk away in frustration.
Crap. He screwed up. But what reaction did he expect? It wasn’t as if Bel was going to just happily accept that Mukuro was just a little bit important to him too. Maybe if he hadn’t defended the older illusionist, their conversation wouldn’t have turned out this way.
So Fran did what he would normally do whenever the blonde was angry; stay quiet and walk slowly, ten paces behind.
(Source: lllussionist)
