Faolan had taken enough of this whore's malicious words. He felt the muscle in his arm tense as if to strike her, the sober part of him still holding back, when Lucien stepped between them. They were all lucky for this, Faolan would have acted out of pure anger and that was never a good thing.

Although Lucien had put himself in between the Irishman and the woman, Faolan couldn't take his eyes off of her snide painted face. He was practically snarling at her, but slowly his awareness returned as Lucien's words carried to his ears. So, it was their fault now? This was just like Lucien, to apologize for something that was not their fault at all. These women deserved whatever negativity would come down on them because of their insistence and their unctuousness. Faolan felt betrayed, furious, confused, and tired all at once. His head began to swim with these thoughts and emotions as Lucien led him away. He didn't even hear the rest of the conversation, nor did he hear the woman yelling after them.

Once they had stepped away, Faolan ruffled his shoulders to drop Lucien's hand. He didn't feel like be touched or comforted right now, he felt like punching something.

[color=a36209]"Yeah, I can see that..."[/color] he grumbled as they walked, refusing to look in the Frenchman's direction. A small silence followed, and Faolan continued by snapping, [color=a36209]"Next time you want to go on a wee escapade, keep me out of it."[/color] The booze was making him hot and angry; he was uncomfortable, his head hurt, his heart pounded roughly against his ribs with the adrenaline. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep.

But the thought of Lucien with that woman...them touching each other, kissing, falling onto a bed...these images would not stop parading through his mind. He clenched his fist and jaw, over and over, recognizing a pain as his heart throbbed harder and harder. It hurt to think of this, and he wanted it to stop.