Ford glanced towards the foyer at the front of the ballroom indecisively. He'd just been thinking a moment ago that it would be better to be alone with Macnair than to have to suffer through this conversation with the potential for an audience at any moment, but faced with the actual prospect of it he was less sure. They couldn't really get anywhere properly private during the middle of a party, but they could probably find a corner far enough away from the main throng of partygoers that Macnair would feel comfortable speaking his mind. Ford didn't know what that would mean, since he hadn't given him a chance to say anything at all except a few expletives the last time they'd seen one another. He might say anything, and Ford hadn't prepared for any of it, because he'd been preoccupied trying to think of ways to prevent this from happening in the first place. Worse, he might do anything, and Ford already knew he couldn't handle that while maintaining any semblance of composure.
Ford swallowed and glanced at some of their other options for a private conversation: the retiring rooms, the balcony over the ballroom, one of the game rooms if they could find one that wasn't in use. None of them were exactly private, but neither was the foyer, unless they were going to go hide in the back of the coat check. He'd already hesitated long enough that Macnair would have noticed, but he wavered for another second before glancing over at Macnair's face.
"Promise not to touch me," he said, quietly but firmly. He could maybe (maybe) handle whatever Macnair wanted to say, but he couldn't handle Macnair touching him. It was too risky in a place like this anyway, but that didn't mean Macnair wouldn't try it. He had a habit of slipping into physicality that Ford had noticed, and which he found particularly maddening during their last two encounters (on all of their encounters, really, but before they'd broken things off Macnair's touch had been maddening in an entirely different way).
Ford swallowed and glanced at some of their other options for a private conversation: the retiring rooms, the balcony over the ballroom, one of the game rooms if they could find one that wasn't in use. None of them were exactly private, but neither was the foyer, unless they were going to go hide in the back of the coat check. He'd already hesitated long enough that Macnair would have noticed, but he wavered for another second before glancing over at Macnair's face.
"Promise not to touch me," he said, quietly but firmly. He could maybe (maybe) handle whatever Macnair wanted to say, but he couldn't handle Macnair touching him. It was too risky in a place like this anyway, but that didn't mean Macnair wouldn't try it. He had a habit of slipping into physicality that Ford had noticed, and which he found particularly maddening during their last two encounters (on all of their encounters, really, but before they'd broken things off Macnair's touch had been maddening in an entirely different way).
Set by Lady!