Eobard was knocked dumb by the words, choking on the sip of wine he'd been taking and sputtering a bit as his initial response, turning towards the younger man with wide eyes. It was one thing to hear from Hartley that he'd been theoretically in love with him before it had all gone to shit, but after their first conversation, they had always been careful to dance around any mention of the dreaded 'l' word. Care had always been enough for Eobard as far as the present was concerned, partly because love hadn't been what he was aiming for and partly because he wasn't entirely sure he was capable of that emotion. Staring, wide-eyed, at Hartley, Eobard could only imagine what this looked like.
There was a new sort of panic welling up in Eobard, completely separate from the restless desperation that he'd been feeling a moment before. This desire to escape was completely different from his initial desire to escape, and he could almost feel his body start vibrating from the intensity of the emotion. But as much as might want to, he knew that he shouldn't run away. He was a grown up, dammit. He could deal with this.
"Now, why did you have to go and say that?" Eobard asked, a sudden heaviness in his voice. "Everything was going so well."