Typical. Cress picked himself up and rubbed the back of his skull, wincing at the dull, throbbing pain nagging at him. He sat there, staring at the exit with the look of a cat who had just been doused in water, then huffed and got up to his feet again, checking his outfit for lint.

He wouldn't readily admit it, but his final impassioned outburst stung him. He knew he had been callous with his brother, but in his heart he truly believed Chili did not understand him nor his feelings. In his mind, Chili had no right to control who he dated, or even liked, and it served him right to get another wake-up call. Nevertheless... was he truly prioritizing her over him? Depriving Chili of the relationship they once had in favor of a shinier one? Such notions persisted to tap into him, backed by memories of Chili's exasperated voice.

Whatever. Dance with Celestia he shall. It would show him that his words never affected him in the slightest.