[ She does know that he's kidding. Sort of. Which is why she doesn't haul off and smack him across the face, even though she kind of wants to. Caring about him on any level is something like driving her head repeatedly into a brick wall: it doesn't really hurt and it seems really stupid and insane to keep doing it, but there's always the belief that maybe one of these days her skull is going to be thick enough to make a dent.
Instead, she shoves him, palm hard and flat on his shoulder. Her face is full of agitated, tired frustration. ]
[ Severus lets himself be wobbled back a little, and he reaches out to snag her arm - lightly - to balance himself. At a loss, he leaves his hand there.
[ That's better than nothing. Although if Claire is being honest with herself, she's been getting less and less nothing from him over the months - months? - that she's known him. Maybe she's been making a dent after all. She tries not too look to pleased with herself all the same, which isn't difficult under his scrutiny.
She doesn't say anything either. Just takes a deep breath and lets it out again.
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Look, he's bad at this. ]
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Instead, she shoves him, palm hard and flat on his shoulder. Her face is full of agitated, tired frustration. ]
Too bad.
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Instead of talking he just looks at her.
All right. ]
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She doesn't say anything either. Just takes a deep breath and lets it out again.
Better. ]