Blanche said nothing more, merely reached for Gwen’s wrist and gently pulled him along outside into the flurry of snow and wind. It was a frozen hell outside, but it was warmer than being subjected to Vincente’s icy gaze, anyways.
“Gwen-” he started, albeit the fierce chill that racked his body cut his words short and he struggled to pull his own coat closer to his body, and put his hands underneath his armpits where they could at least retain some semblance of warmth, if he was lucky.
“You know what this looks like, right?” he asked, pleadingly, desperately. He could already feel the burn of tears behind his eyes, (in fact he had felt them coming on while he was still sitting there talking to Vincente, just a minute ago) yet he refused to let them fall just yet. “I’ve… seen people in situations like this before. You know… you know, you don’t have to stay here.” He wished there had been someone to say that to him years ago.
“I have an extra bedroom at my place, if you need somewhere to go, even just for a while.” Never mind that they had just met, and that he had been instantaneously smitten by the other male, too. “I’m sorry I was angry at you at first, but when you said he wasn’t your boyfriend, I… I don’t know. And I’m sorry for dragging you out into a blizzard, too.” He laughed, for a moment, before he glanced at his car, his subtle smile gone again. It really would be hell trying to get back home in this storm, but he judged it was worth the risk, if Gwen agreed to it. If not, he wasn’t going anywhere without him.