Ford was very aware of how close they were, but that didn't stop him from being startled by it again once he had to turn his head to look at Macnair. Close enough to kiss was what came to mind, but even that didn't really encompass it. At least Macnair didn't seem to have any intention of staying that close, and as he started to straighten out Ford scooted backwards until there was a nice, respectable distance between them. Or what would have been a respectable distance, anyway, if Macnair wasn't half naked. Ford's jacket and pants had both been stained with blood by this point and Macnair's arm was still a mess, so it wasn't as though anyone would see them and get the wrong idea, but still. The sooner he was clothed again, the better.
Ford swallowed and tried to consider what to say in response to Macnair's thank you. There was nothing he wanted to say in general, which was why he'd so adamantly refused leaving the club with Macnair in the first place. Even if he said nothing, staying here seemed dangerous. Macnair might say something that Ford didn't expect and turn his world upside down, and he didn't want that. He didn't want to hear Macnair say I trust you or feel his fingers brush against Ford's face. If he'd wanted to be hopelessly and miserably in love with someone that he knew would only end up hurting him, he wouldn't have broken things off in the first place.
He scooted away from Macnair again, just to be sure there wasn't any way Macnair was touching him (as if Macnair could have touched him somewhere without his realizing it and fixating on it) and reached for his wand. "I'm sorry," he blurted out at the last minute. Then he apparated to the garden behind the Greengrass house and collapsed on his back on the cobblestones, staring up at the distant, murky stars.
Ford swallowed and tried to consider what to say in response to Macnair's thank you. There was nothing he wanted to say in general, which was why he'd so adamantly refused leaving the club with Macnair in the first place. Even if he said nothing, staying here seemed dangerous. Macnair might say something that Ford didn't expect and turn his world upside down, and he didn't want that. He didn't want to hear Macnair say I trust you or feel his fingers brush against Ford's face. If he'd wanted to be hopelessly and miserably in love with someone that he knew would only end up hurting him, he wouldn't have broken things off in the first place.
He scooted away from Macnair again, just to be sure there wasn't any way Macnair was touching him (as if Macnair could have touched him somewhere without his realizing it and fixating on it) and reached for his wand. "I'm sorry," he blurted out at the last minute. Then he apparated to the garden behind the Greengrass house and collapsed on his back on the cobblestones, staring up at the distant, murky stars.
Set by Lady!