Evil With Turned Savior

"Atticus?" Daphne prompted again, as her husband was simply staring at her wordlessly. He wasn't blinking, and she doubted he was even breathing. She was beginning to get worried― what if Atticus didn't like the outfit? He didn't like Cordelia, it stood to reason that he would dislike whatever was inspired by her. 

Daphne's heart fell. Perhaps she should change out of the dress. She let out an awkward laugh and moved back. 

"I'll just change out of this―"

"No!" Atticus exclaimed, the fervent yell tearing out from his throat.

"Oh. Alright then," Daphne said, blinking in surprise at the strength of his refusal. "So… what do you think?" 

Atticus wanted to reply. He would have, if not for the fact that he suddenly lost the ability to form all words. Rational thought had deserted his very being, and he was once again reverted to a caveman gurgling random sounds before the advent of language.