Faolan almost apologizes again before he realizes what he's doing and shuts his mouth, offering Lancelot a quiet nod instead. Reaching forward to pick up the banana drink and clutching it close as well. Taking a tentative sip and looking up to offer the other man a plaintive glance. He's trying. Really he is. He doesn't mean to be this way. To push Lancelot into such situations himself. He just can't seem to stop himself.

He doesn't know what to make of the 'jump to your own conclusions' bit either. But he'll stay. For Lancelot, he'll stay. For Lancelot, he'd do pretty much just about anything he's realizing. Even if he might not do it well.

Faolan falls into something of an awkward silence, uncertain how to respond, uncertain what to do beyond just...what he's told, really. His eyes falling to the plate in front of him as he forces himself to stay where he is and cut off another small bite to eat. Managing as much as that before he's speaking up quietly to say, "You should be. Angry with me. I wouldn't blame you. I don't think anyone would, really, but least of all me."