Macnair leaned forward and Ford's eyes flashed, ready for whatever he would say next — but he didn't say anything at all. He was leaning back, and somehow that was even worse — not confrontational but that calm, collected look he had so often, even though it was clear from his posture that he was still annoyed. Merlin, sometimes Ford really did believe he almost hated him, because how could he still look like that when he was being so infuriatingly obtuse? Ford grit his teeth. I'm not going to tell you, he thought. You can look at me like that and nudge my foot under the table and do whatever else you want, and I'm not going to tell you. What difference would it make now, anyway? It would only serve to further embarrass Ford, and it would benefit neither of them, so he wasn't going to tell him.

Except he was, apparently, because before he'd even realized what he was doing he'd opened his mouth and spat out, "Because I would have fallen in love with you if I'd stayed, you idiot."

Ford's eyes widened slightly as the weight of the words he'd just spoken sunk in. Fuck's sake, why had he said that? He had certainly never intended to say that, and if he hadn't heard the words as they'd left his mouth he wouldn't have believed he even had. Even if he'd wanted to make some sort of grand confession (he hadn't), this was the wrong venue for it — they were in the club, and Ford hadn't even taken the trouble to lower his voice, which meant someone might have overheard if they were passing by closely enough. Fuck fuck fuck, but why had he said that?!

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   Valerian Macnair