The tops of Ford's cheeks tinged pink at the word ravish. Macnair had a point, but truthfully it hadn't been the fear of someone else stumbling upon them and getting the wrong impression that had caused Ford to hesitate. It was more that if he undid all of Macnair's buttons, he'd have to sit here on the pavement two feet away from Macnair looking at his bare chest. It wasn't that he was afraid anything would happen while Macnair was bleeding all over the place, but it was just one more complicating factor on this interaction that Ford was struggling to get through as it was. He didn't imagine anything could happen that would make it go any worse, but he just didn't need the added stress of trying not to see the way the muscles on Macnair's chest moved as he shifted around on the ground. He'd spent hours after their encounter at the Fae Ball turning it over and over in his mind, overanalyzing and reliving every moment of it, which probably wasn't healthy... and Macnair hadn't been partially naked for any part of that conversation.

It wasn't as though he could say that, though, and even if he did he knew that his own potentially compounding heartbreak was less important than the fact that Macnair was bleeding.

"Yeah, alright," he agreed. He tried to focus only on the buttons themselves, without looking at either the blood or at Macnair's face, as though he could divorce this task from all the rest of the context and pretend these were someone else's buttons, but with minimal success. His fingers were still clumsy and fumbling as he worked through them.

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