Faolan chews on his lip, playing with his glass and shaking his head slightly. Yes and no, honestly. He knows that he owes the other man more of an explanation than cake. He just isn't sure how to explain himself. Not in a way that should make sense to the other man at all. Not without feeling like a fool. But he should try anyway. After as much of a fool as he'd made of himself already, what should it matter anymore?

"It wasn't the cake. I mean, it was, sort of, but. Not in the way that you're thinking," he says, seeing the look on the other man's face. He reaches up to run a hand through his hair and turns so that he doesn't have to look at Lancelot as he struggles to put this into words.

"I... I had just come back from being under cover. I had missed you. I'd missed a lot of things really, but." He swallows. "You made me a cake. You cared. About me, and about something that I hadn't even given a thought to in years. And I hadn't even told you the day. But there it was. And there you were. And I was just so glad to see you, I..." He lets his gaze fall to the floor, still not looking at Lancelot, his voice falling low and quiet as well. "It. Was after that, that I realized..." He trails off, shrugging slightly.