Faolan doesn't know what he's expecting out of this. Truth be told, he hasn't really thought that far ahead of himself at all. He supposes that the tensing and freezing makes sense, peripherally. He hasn't been communicating himself well now, and Lancelot obviously hadn't caught on before, but there really isn't any way to misconstrue this.

Of course, then Lancelot is pulling back and rushing away from him and Faolan is so intoxicated it takes him a moment to realize why. The sofa cushion? Why would...? And then Faolan catches sight of the print that had previously been on the wall suddenly choosing to hover beside it instead. Vaguely, he wonders if whether this is localized to Lancelot's immediate vicinity or whether there might be other objects he's floating around the flat that he doesn't know about, before he realizes what he is seeing. And that the last few times he had seen Lancelot do this, he had been angry or upset. And suddenly Faolan wants to crawl down a very deep, dark hole and bury himself in it. And also be sick. The latter of which suddenly seeming far more likely.

Faolan takes a step away. If he had it in him, he would be out the door in a heartbeat. As it is, he finds himself going over backwards instead.