Valerian watched tensely as Ford rummaged through his coat pocket, eyes widened slightly in worry at the thought that he might have something in his pocket he didn't want Greengrass to see. He'd flirted with a few men since their breakup, and even taken a favor or two—nothing outwardly romantic or vulgar, but tokens he kept in case he ran into them again. Fortunately it was not another man's handkerchief, a note, or anything else Greengrass might pick up on, but a vial of...
"No, not that," he said quickly, recognizing it as one of his mother's poisons that she'd asked him to tweak the recipe on. It was unlabeled, fortunately, but also potent and unlikely to respond well against Greengrass' skin in the event that the bottle spilled or broke. That would be something he'd be unwilling to forgive himself for. "It would be wide, diamond-shaped, green in hue," he rambled on, nervously glancing back between Greengrass and his bag.
"No, not that," he said quickly, recognizing it as one of his mother's poisons that she'd asked him to tweak the recipe on. It was unlabeled, fortunately, but also potent and unlikely to respond well against Greengrass' skin in the event that the bottle spilled or broke. That would be something he'd be unwilling to forgive himself for. "It would be wide, diamond-shaped, green in hue," he rambled on, nervously glancing back between Greengrass and his bag.
