( This isn't happening. This won't happen. He rifles through one of their duffels and pulls out a special silencing weed. Setting it on a glass knick knack he'll use as an ash tray. )
Incendia.
( A pink fume wafts through the air locking down their conversation. It takes everything in his power not to smash the knick knack under hand.
Gathering himself, he turns to face his husband. )
no subject
Incendia.
( A pink fume wafts through the air locking down their conversation. It takes everything in his power not to smash the knick knack under hand.
Gathering himself, he turns to face his husband. )
I'm not letting this happen.