Faolan looked down at the clothes that Lucien had left out for him and let his fingers hover over the fabric without touching it. He knew if he did, he would stain the white cotton with his dirty hands. He let his arm fall to his side, then shrugged and answered Lucien's question quietly, [color=a36209]"Some."[/color]

In truth, his absence from Lucien had been harder and easier than he had anticipated. Harder because he spent every waking hour thinking about the Frenchman, wondering where he was, imagining him walking through town, smiling, remembering the flush in his cheeks the night before he left...and easier because he did not have to confront his feelings or talk about their passionate connection. It stung him to hear the sadness in Lucien's voice and see it in his eyes. He knew he had hurt the Frenchman, and that itch to turn and run from it yet again was crawling up his back. If he was gone, Lucien wouldn't be in pain. Maybe he would even forget about him...after some time.

He turned to face Lucien, noticing immediately what he was wearing. He focused on this, the suit, the buttons, his shiny shoes...

[color=a36209]"See you have a new job...must pay well?"[/color] he asked, his question coming out a little quicker than he intended, making him sound judgmental or suspicious. It was clear to him, but maybe not to Lucien, that he didn't know how to act around the Frenchman any more. Maybe the distance had hurt them in more ways than he knew.