Faolan glances up at Lancelot, his eyes focusing on the water bottle for a long moment before he reaches out to take it from the other man, playing with it in his hands as he glances away again.
"Thanks," he says, though he spends some time fiddling with the bottle in his hands (whether he's actually trying to open it and failing or just playing with the thing no one can say) before he opens it and takes a drink. He's struggling to try and find the right words for the other man. Perhaps to explain himself, perhaps to apologize.
He isn't even sure whether Lancelot's going to stick around again or whether he's done what he meant to find him for and he'll be off to entertain his more pleasant (female) guests instead. The thought fills him with bitter anger and he forces himself to take another sip of water before he starts to boil over.
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"Thanks," he says, though he spends some time fiddling with the bottle in his hands (whether he's actually trying to open it and failing or just playing with the thing no one can say) before he opens it and takes a drink. He's struggling to try and find the right words for the other man. Perhaps to explain himself, perhaps to apologize.
He isn't even sure whether Lancelot's going to stick around again or whether he's done what he meant to find him for and he'll be off to entertain his more pleasant (female) guests instead. The thought fills him with bitter anger and he forces himself to take another sip of water before he starts to boil over.