Faolan considers it a moment before shaking his head slightly. "No, I. That's alright. You. I don't mind it," he says, honestly surprised that he doesn't, all things considered. Although he does start to wonder, start to worry perhaps more accurately, what Lancelot is going to think of his flat. Of the neighborhood he lives in. Whether he will judge him for it, what conclusions he will draw from it. But no, he doesn't mind.
He glances down at his hands for a moment. "I'd. Rather you'd be there with me, to be honest. And. That's easier if you come with me." He glances up again at Lancelot, hesitantly. "You've got to make sure I don't walk in front of any trains or buses anyway, yeah? Especially after I hear whatever it is they're going to tell me..."
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He glances down at his hands for a moment. "I'd. Rather you'd be there with me, to be honest. And. That's easier if you come with me." He glances up again at Lancelot, hesitantly. "You've got to make sure I don't walk in front of any trains or buses anyway, yeah? Especially after I hear whatever it is they're going to tell me..."