He stared at the door handle for a moment, wondering if Daphne had come back to gloat on the fact that she had successfully made him loose his temper, but he knew she had much more pride than that.
"Yes?" Theodore said apprehensively, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade slicing through the flesh on one's forearm. Theodore felt a bit unnerved, as he should, his surroundings far from reflected his mood, and there was such a distance between him and reality that the character on the other side of the wooden door could have been a mile away and Theodore would have still felt as though they were intruding into his bubble of solitude. Putting that thought aside, the door opened and Erin Rosier walked in, looking as stunning as ever. Theodore was a bit embarrassed and tried not to look at the wrecked on the floor that was once a perfectly good chair.
"Are you alright?" She asked, taking a small step into the room and closing the door. She kept against the wall, as if she sensed his uneasiness about this intrusion, and perhaps Theodore's emotional state was much more obviously unstable then he had hoped.
Theodore nodded, trying to catch the breath he had lost somewhere between Daphne leaving and the chair exploding. "I'm fine." He lied, trying to look at her without the emotions pouring out of his eyes so transparently that he might as well be breaking down into a teary fit. He decided instead to look past her, near her feet. The hem of her cloak was swaying ever so slightly in his field of vision.
Erin was clearly not that gullible and took another step into the room towards Theodore. "You're lying." She said blatantly, although there was still a hint of caution and possibly compassion in her voice.
Theodore narrowed his eyes, wishing she would leave and give him the chance to smash more things before his rage subsided into a dull thumping in the back of his mind. He didn't say anything to her, since she knew she was right with or without his confirmation.
Erin crossed the remaining space between the two of them once she had realized that Theodore wasn't a threat to her at all in his state of mind. He was slowly giving up his hold on all the anger; without Daphne in the room, he really didn't have a reason to be mad anymore. He took a deep breath and looked up into her eyes once again.
"What happened?" She said, kneeling down next to the chair Theodore had collapsed in.
"Nothing important," Theodore said, hoping she wouldn't pry, hoping that she wouldn't insist he relive the entire event, considering it felt like a fresh burning scar in the back on his mind.
"You can tell me." She said softly, her eyes opened wide with more compassion then Theodore had expected from any Slytherin, let alone Erin Rosier, who was very well known for playing boys for suckers to further her own reputation.
Without even thinking about the consequences, or what she would possibly do to his measly little words, he explained what he had told Daphne, and how she had reacted in one breath. He spoke very quickly, and doubted that she even understood anything he had said. He didn't look at her as he spilled his story, he looked at the wall opposite her, but he knew she was listening intently, her eyes glued to the side of his head. Once his lips had closed, wishing he wouldn't have to ever repeat that mouthful again, he glanced at her. Realizing she wasn't in hysterics, he let himself turn his head fully around and watch her reaction carefully.
"You shouldn't have told her." Erin said, confirming his beliefs at that moment, "She doesn't understand." Her gaze was directed discreetly at Theodore's forearm. He followed her eyes and realized he had never rolled down his sleeves after exposing his secret the Daphne. The Dark mark was staring at him, bold and foreboding and evil. Before Theodore could react, Erin had her forefinger tracing the lines of the skull so skillfully; he was convinced she had done it a million times before on her own arm.
Slowly, and almost ceremoniously, Erin lifted her sleeve and let Theodore laid his eyes on her own Dark Mark. They were identical every way, except that the skin underlying Theodore's was dark, and worn from years of exposure to the elements and other nasty things, while Erin's skin was so thin and pale that the blue veins running beneath it were completely visible. They sat still for a moment, staring at each other, and the marks until Theodore's dark mark starting burning in an incredibly painful manner. Both Theodore are Erin shuddered, and Erin's hand automatically grabbed onto on of Theodore's hands and squeezed until the pain subsided, leaving them both breathless.
"Dammit," Theodore swore, pulling his own hand away from Erin's a bit awkwardly, and clasping it over his mark. "What the hell was that?" He asked, wondering why the hell the Dark Lord would decide to go into a fit of strong emotions at such a time.
"I don't know." Erin replied, pausing between each word, as though she was still trying to find the answer to the question as she spoke.
They remained silent for a while, so they could just think. Erin was still kneeling on the floor next to Theodore's chair, staring at the floor. A random thought crossed his mind as to why she wouldn't grab a seat, but maybe that thought hadn't crossed the girl's mind. Theodore wondered why he was so curious as to what was going on in Erin's head right at that moment. After the moment they had shared earlier due to their Marks, Theodore felt that it was right to assume that that was what she was pondering about.
After a few minutes, which seemed to last an eternity, Erin looked up from her thoughts to find Theodore watching her. She blushed a bit, but didn't say a word about it. Carefully, she lifted herself off the floor and met Theodore's eye. "I should go…" She said, hesitating for a second, her gaze watching Theodore's facial expression analytically. She made her way to the door, and Theodore stood up, pushing the chair loudly across the floor behind him. Erin turned back and gave Theodore a small smile before slipping out of the room and shutting the door with a click. Theodore contented himself by just standing there, watching the spot where the hem of her cloak had swished out of the room with a flick.