Vasquez glances up when he hears Faraday's hesitation near the door. For a brief, blinding, and bright moment, he thinks that maybe Faraday will decide that he wants to just go. That relief ebbs into a gut-wrenching feeling when he realizes that this would mean that then Vasquez will lose his company, but he thinks that this is going to happen anyway. If he goes now, things won't get more complicated.
Instead of leaving, though, he closes the door and it sounds like the loudest gunshot. There's a finality to that because now they have to talk, now Vasquez can't leave unless he does something rash and stupid like try and knock out Faraday. For all that Vasquez might be a little taller, he has nothing on Faraday's weight, so he doesn't think that he could do that without the element of surprise.
Then, that question. When Vasquez laughs, it's empty and hollow. It's the sound of a man who's been caught and knows he has to face the noose. He can't even lie, because Josiah has proven himself to be a quick mind with his Spanish -- his pronunciations clear, his comfort evident. Of course Faraday had been holding onto those words, and of course Josiah had translated, because the hijo di puta probably didn't want to say anything that might make Vasquez annoyed. Look how that's backfired.
Breathing in slowly, he can feel the way his stomach roils with wariness, not to mention the ache of his heart pounding so hard. He doesn't act like an asshole (even though he could) and point out that he's never actually lied to Faraday. He just never answered him properly when he'd asked for translations.
"When I call you cariño, it's something like honey or sweetheart. Dear. Querido, it's something of the same. Darling." He's not speaking to Faraday while he says this, but the wooden slats of the floor where he can hear the sounds of the downstairs filtering through. "Nene is...it's the same as the others, but more personal," he admits. For all that he'd used those words sometimes to tease and to taunt, he can't hide behind them anymore.
He'd used them with sincerity, happy that he could until now, when he cannot hide anymore behind the Spanish and Faraday knows what Vasquez has been saying all this time. He should apologize, but he doesn't feel sorry for saying them, only sorry that he got caught.
"Faraday," he gets out, trying to sound casual and light, starting a campaign to convince him that it means nothing (even though to him, it means everything, but he's willing to lie to keep what he's got). "It's nothing," he vows. "Really," he promises, finally looking up once he thinks he can maintain eye contact. "I was just poking fun, that's all," he swears, even though he knows that his argument can be knocked down as easy as a house of cards.
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winterfish
no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 08:02 pm (UTC)Instead of leaving, though, he closes the door and it sounds like the loudest gunshot. There's a finality to that because now they have to talk, now Vasquez can't leave unless he does something rash and stupid like try and knock out Faraday. For all that Vasquez might be a little taller, he has nothing on Faraday's weight, so he doesn't think that he could do that without the element of surprise.
Then, that question. When Vasquez laughs, it's empty and hollow. It's the sound of a man who's been caught and knows he has to face the noose. He can't even lie, because Josiah has proven himself to be a quick mind with his Spanish -- his pronunciations clear, his comfort evident. Of course Faraday had been holding onto those words, and of course Josiah had translated, because the hijo di puta probably didn't want to say anything that might make Vasquez annoyed. Look how that's backfired.
Breathing in slowly, he can feel the way his stomach roils with wariness, not to mention the ache of his heart pounding so hard. He doesn't act like an asshole (even though he could) and point out that he's never actually lied to Faraday. He just never answered him properly when he'd asked for translations.
"When I call you cariño, it's something like honey or sweetheart. Dear. Querido, it's something of the same. Darling." He's not speaking to Faraday while he says this, but the wooden slats of the floor where he can hear the sounds of the downstairs filtering through. "Nene is...it's the same as the others, but more personal," he admits. For all that he'd used those words sometimes to tease and to taunt, he can't hide behind them anymore.
He'd used them with sincerity, happy that he could until now, when he cannot hide anymore behind the Spanish and Faraday knows what Vasquez has been saying all this time. He should apologize, but he doesn't feel sorry for saying them, only sorry that he got caught.
"Faraday," he gets out, trying to sound casual and light, starting a campaign to convince him that it means nothing (even though to him, it means everything, but he's willing to lie to keep what he's got). "It's nothing," he vows. "Really," he promises, finally looking up once he thinks he can maintain eye contact. "I was just poking fun, that's all," he swears, even though he knows that his argument can be knocked down as easy as a house of cards.