"You didn't give me any clue that you did either!" he insists, turning back to his shirt to see if the water is doing anything to get the staining out, his mind working fast as he does. Trying to process what Lancelot is saying and put it together with everything he thought he knew about the night so far.

Deeming it looks alright, if soaked through, Faolan turns back to the other man with a slightly vulnerable and uncertain look on his face. "Everything you said in the cab," he says. "About not needing to impress you. You knew then? And you... You agreed to come back here with me and continue the evening anyway?"