It would be so easy to vanish into the simple things like squeezing Faraday's hip, being so close to him, having these moments, but there is a whole town around them. Beyond that, if they want a room and for Vasquez to not call attention to himself (and, more notably, his accent), he needs to step back and let Faraday do his work.
He occupies himself by lighting a cigarette in the corner, working his way through the majority of it while he keeps a steady eye on Faraday, both to watch his back and also because he enjoys watching him, with no other motives.
If his parents could see him now, losing his head and heart over a guero jackass, he'd be in for a scolding, he thinks. He ducks his head and grins when Faraday seems to manage to talk the grizzled woman into at least acceptance of him, but when he returns, Vasquez squints at his words.
"Que?" Then he clarifies, "a" room, one single room. "It's fine," he says dismissively. In fact, it's probably better this way, because now Vasquez might stand a chance of sleeping if he knows that someone else will be there. "You wanted a bed, I'll take the floor." His back is used to such aches and he's had worse. He's just happy for the roof over his head, the warmth, and the prospect of food that he's willing to let Faraday have the mattress.
Besides, it won't be the first time Faraday has a bed and Vasquez sits uncomfortably near him, after all those weeks in Rose Creek. "Food," he says, putting out his cigarette, because maybe he's so fixated on this that he isn't thinking about such shared space.
Definitely isn't thinking about all the dangerous things that can happen with shared space, especially after his drunken episode the night before.
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He occupies himself by lighting a cigarette in the corner, working his way through the majority of it while he keeps a steady eye on Faraday, both to watch his back and also because he enjoys watching him, with no other motives.
If his parents could see him now, losing his head and heart over a guero jackass, he'd be in for a scolding, he thinks. He ducks his head and grins when Faraday seems to manage to talk the grizzled woman into at least acceptance of him, but when he returns, Vasquez squints at his words.
"Que?" Then he clarifies, "a" room, one single room. "It's fine," he says dismissively. In fact, it's probably better this way, because now Vasquez might stand a chance of sleeping if he knows that someone else will be there. "You wanted a bed, I'll take the floor." His back is used to such aches and he's had worse. He's just happy for the roof over his head, the warmth, and the prospect of food that he's willing to let Faraday have the mattress.
Besides, it won't be the first time Faraday has a bed and Vasquez sits uncomfortably near him, after all those weeks in Rose Creek. "Food," he says, putting out his cigarette, because maybe he's so fixated on this that he isn't thinking about such shared space.
Definitely isn't thinking about all the dangerous things that can happen with shared space, especially after his drunken episode the night before.