Macnair was angling his body towards him, and he was still smiling, and he had a hungry look in his eyes. On one level, these facts consumed Ford. He didn't even have to take them in and process them before his body reacted to them. He was shifting in his chair just slightly to match Macnair's body language. He was letting his eyes linger on the other man's despite the intensity of Macnair's gaze (it wouldn't have been any more comfortable to have looked away, anyway, because he still would have felt the other man's eyes; he would have felt him looking). His mouth was dry and he was running his tongue over the back of his teeth in an effort to keep some level of moisture there, without allowing himself to lick his lips — because as much as he wanted to, he knew Macnair would see if he did, and he knew more instinctively than cerebrally that that would push them further down this path Ford had not expected to find himself walking down tonight.
Beneath that, though, there was a niggling thought working through his brain. It had started a moment ago, when Macnair had said he wondered if the boggart might take a different form if he saw it now — because that was a ridiculous thing to say, wasn't it? What could have changed in a week? And then with this latest comment...
"Does that mean you're afraid of yourself?" he asked quickly. As soon as the words left him he bit the inside of his lower lip, surprised at his own temerity.
Beneath that, though, there was a niggling thought working through his brain. It had started a moment ago, when Macnair had said he wondered if the boggart might take a different form if he saw it now — because that was a ridiculous thing to say, wasn't it? What could have changed in a week? And then with this latest comment...
"Does that mean you're afraid of yourself?" he asked quickly. As soon as the words left him he bit the inside of his lower lip, surprised at his own temerity.
Set by Lady!