Faolan quite literally wolfed his food down. He needed to eat quickly, to get out of here before Lucien was finished so that he had an excuse to leave. His heart pounded in his chest as his brain swirled with anxiety and his body ached at the notion of walking out the door again...his attempt to distract himself by eating was working, but not entirely. A couple of times, he found himself wanting to glance up at Lucien, but he fought the urge and continued eating sloppily. He had nearly cleaned his plate when the Frenchman finally spoke up.

He was in mid-bte through a piece of sausage when he stopped as if he had been struck. Lucien's words were sharp and painful and they pierced him like a silver blade. A burning pain erupted in his chest as he rose his eyes and locked eyes with the Frenchman. He could see the way he looked last night, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling in the lamplight above, chest heaving...he wanted desperately to reach out and touch him, to apologize, to explain...

But he couldn't. Lucien's safety was what mattered most, now and for ever. If keeping this act a singular event was the way to do it, then Faolan had to resist.

He swallowed his bite of sausage and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he leaned back in his chair. A heavy silence hung between the two of them for a moment before Faolan shrugged and said, [color=a36209]"Its not a good time."[/color] His voice was flat as he spoke, his expression blank. He pushed all romantic thoughts out of his mind as he looked at Lucien. Harsh though it was, he could not allow his mind to be changed.