[Maybe if Marco were less tired, he'd keep trying, searching for a way to voice his concerns without saying something Rohan would rather not here. But the way things are right now, he stands there with his mouth open for all of five seconds before giving up and saying:]
By the Fog God. That's what I mean. And I know you don't-- don't want to talk about it, so let's not.
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I don't care to hear them but sure. I've done most of the talking. Let me have it...
[ Regrettably. ]
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[Is there ANY way he could put this that would keep the conversation from turning sour again?}
... You're leaving yourself more open to being taken advantage of than you might... think.
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[ Now he kind of cares; if not only for what Marco's angle is here. ]
Explain.
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By the Fog God. That's what I mean. And I know you don't-- don't want to talk about it, so let's not.
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Are you implying that She would take advantage of me? [ His brow knits and his wings start to flare as he grows visibly agitated. Uh oh. ]
You should leave.
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... Right. I should, shouldn't I?
[- not that it was necessary. Words would have been enough to send him away.
Marco turns his back to Rohan, casts one last nervous glance at his surroundings, and then barely turns his head to look at him one more time.]
Thanks for... for not doing anything too serious to me. I really do mean that.
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You're welcome.
Don't push your luck.