Wouldn't you? Ford thought immediately. He rather doubted it. If he'd thought it was the sort of thing that might be met without judgement, he wouldn't have told Dorian Fisk they ought to stop when he'd...
No, no, no, he absolutely could not think about that at the moment. Not while he was in a conversation with a different Mr. Fisk and not while he had this horribly awkward note still in his hands. Horribly awkward, but actually sort of sweet in a way. Not that there was any chance that Ford would ever want to take him up on it, but it was kind of Leonid Fisk to offer a listening ear, he supposed. He'd gone very much out of his way to do so, and he really hadn't had to.
(Why had he gone so far out of his way? Did he know anything about what had happened earlier that week? This timing of this was a little suspect if it was really meant to follow up on that afternoon in the break room, wasn't it? Goodness gracious. What if he wasn't trying to offer a listening ear at all, but was actually — spying for his brother? That was being melodramatic, but Ford couldn't think of any other word. Maybe Leonid Fisk knew what had happened between Ford and Dorian, or maybe not, but his brother might have prodded him into doing this either way. If there had been any color left in his face at this point, it would have drained anew at this thought).
"That's — uhm, very kind of you," he said haltingly, crumpling the note in his hand and shoving it deep into the pocket of his robe. "But —"
Oh no. What was the but? Obviously he couldn't agree to this offer, whether it was sincere or not, but Ford hadn't actually gotten as far as thinking up a good excuse. He could just insist that he wasn't having life troubles, whatever that meant (he felt as though it was probably accurate to say he wasn't; this certainly didn't rise to that level) but if he said that, would it make it seem as though he was and he was trying to deny it? Or maybe he could have said that he had plenty of people to talk with who were on the outside of it all, which was true — well, true generally, anyway. He didn't have anyone he could talk to about this, but Leonid Fisk didn't need to know that.
Aware that he had paused a suspiciously long time and needed to say something sooner rather than later, Ford eventually managed, "— I'm feeling much better about it all now."
Which was not true at all.
Set by Lady!
No, no, no, he absolutely could not think about that at the moment. Not while he was in a conversation with a different Mr. Fisk and not while he had this horribly awkward note still in his hands. Horribly awkward, but actually sort of sweet in a way. Not that there was any chance that Ford would ever want to take him up on it, but it was kind of Leonid Fisk to offer a listening ear, he supposed. He'd gone very much out of his way to do so, and he really hadn't had to.
(Why had he gone so far out of his way? Did he know anything about what had happened earlier that week? This timing of this was a little suspect if it was really meant to follow up on that afternoon in the break room, wasn't it? Goodness gracious. What if he wasn't trying to offer a listening ear at all, but was actually — spying for his brother? That was being melodramatic, but Ford couldn't think of any other word. Maybe Leonid Fisk knew what had happened between Ford and Dorian, or maybe not, but his brother might have prodded him into doing this either way. If there had been any color left in his face at this point, it would have drained anew at this thought).
"That's — uhm, very kind of you," he said haltingly, crumpling the note in his hand and shoving it deep into the pocket of his robe. "But —"
Oh no. What was the but? Obviously he couldn't agree to this offer, whether it was sincere or not, but Ford hadn't actually gotten as far as thinking up a good excuse. He could just insist that he wasn't having life troubles, whatever that meant (he felt as though it was probably accurate to say he wasn't; this certainly didn't rise to that level) but if he said that, would it make it seem as though he was and he was trying to deny it? Or maybe he could have said that he had plenty of people to talk with who were on the outside of it all, which was true — well, true generally, anyway. He didn't have anyone he could talk to about this, but Leonid Fisk didn't need to know that.
Aware that he had paused a suspiciously long time and needed to say something sooner rather than later, Ford eventually managed, "— I'm feeling much better about it all now."
Which was not true at all.
Set by Lady!