Faelan was kind of glad that the shop had been extra busy tonight, as it had given him some extra time to think about what he was going to say to Padma. He'd been avoiding her for the past few days, a guilty stirring in his stomach every time he drank the Wolfsbane, each dose reminding him that it was long past time for them to have a serious conversation. But every time he thought about it, he felt rather like throwing up, and he was afraid that as soon as she looked him in the eye, he'd chicken out.
Now, because he was a wimp, he'd left it until the worst possible day. Not only was it Valentine's Day, but it was the night before the full moon, both of which had him twitching with anxiety. So when Padma slipped her hand into his and invited him upstairs, his mouth went dry and he couldn't swallow. Aside from the immediate questions that popped into his head -- why was she inviting him up to her couch, what did she expect, what was the gentleman-like thing to do? -- he felt a very definitive desire to say yes, until he reminded himself that he needed to tell her things, and then his heart began to race painfully.
But then she squeezed his hand and looked up at him expectantly, and he couldn't say no. He had to get this over with before he died of fear, and he thought it would be better to have this conversation where there weren't plate glass windows within breaking distance, in case she got really angry and started throwing things. And if she got really upset, he'd feel a lot better about leaving her in the private comfort of her home than down here, where the recent urgency of the crowd had left the store feeling a bit impersonal.
So, after a long pause, he answered, "Yeah. I mean, yes, I'd like that. Thanks."
Following her to a staircase hidden behind a bookshelf, he followed her up and gripped her hand tightly when it threatened to slip away, just in case it was the last time he would feel her.