Faolan jumps at the sound of Arthur's voice, and it's by the grace of god alone that he doesn't knock the pot of near-boiling soup off of the stove and all over himself as he whips around to see who it was that had caught him so off-guard. He isn't certain whether it's better or worse to have it be Arthur, truth be told. Someone he hardly knows (not that he knows Arthur all that well, but still), it would be easier to pretend it had never happened. He knows that the other man will remember this. Certainly he will, at least.

"Jesus, man," Faolan hisses, as he waits for his heart to settle back down where it belongs in his chest again.