Faraday still isn't moving away and he's stammering so much that Vasquez knows that he's right. He's also getting to the point of embarrassment and frustration that he's rounding up on being an asshole of big proportions, stepping a little further so that he's in Faraday's space, gearing up for a fight.

"You didn't think, not a surprise," he tells him, sneering. "You want for me to speak English? Fine," he snaps, even though the Spanish had been because in his heightened state of emotion, Spanish is just easier for him to fall back on, but if Faraday wants all of the truth, then he can have it all.

Let him flush and stammer and feel awkward around him, if he's going to demand it, then Vasquez is happy to keep going down this awful, endless track. "I said that I don't want to sit around like a lovesick idiot while you flirt with your women," he says, pushing at Faraday's shoulder to push him against the door, wanting to get out of this room. "That you're not so stupid to think that everything can go on the same." Another push and he cocks his head to the side, challenging. "That you'll sit there and let your leg lock up, stop joking with me, that's what should be your future?"

He wants to push and push, make Faraday snap and see the point -- this can't work and the sooner they both understand it, the sooner they can deal with the separation, the sooner Vasquez can go lick his wounds and mend his heart.

"Let me out," he says, low and sharp. "I want out of this fucking room," he says, breathing out the profanity like he's exhausted. "I need a drink."