The response draws Faraday’s gaze back to Vasquez, and his eyes narrow, trying to puzzle out what that complaint means. Vasquez seems awful sour about Henrietta, for reasons Faraday still can’t quite figure out. He had assumed, yesterday, that the other man was envious of Faraday’s opportunity to enjoy the company of lovely women, but now, though, that hardly seems the case; if it were, then Vasquez would surely be more bitter with Faraday than with the saloon girl, as he currently seems to be.
He chews the words over, arching an eyebrow with the emphasis that Vasquez gives the word “welcoming,” and after a second or two, Faraday rocks back a little with sudden understanding.
“... Ah,” is about all he can manage, caught off-guard by the realization. He peers across the table, trying to study Vasquez’s face. A little difficult to do, with the way the other man has his head bowed.
“You... weren’t interested?” and he asks it as levelly as he can. The answer shouldn’t interest him as much as it does, but for whatever reason, he finds himself waiting a little anxiously for the response.
no subject
He chews the words over, arching an eyebrow with the emphasis that Vasquez gives the word “welcoming,” and after a second or two, Faraday rocks back a little with sudden understanding.
“... Ah,” is about all he can manage, caught off-guard by the realization. He peers across the table, trying to study Vasquez’s face. A little difficult to do, with the way the other man has his head bowed.
“You... weren’t interested?” and he asks it as levelly as he can. The answer shouldn’t interest him as much as it does, but for whatever reason, he finds himself waiting a little anxiously for the response.