Michel was almost surprised to feel Zevran at his back, he'd never tensed up before, well, not since their first encounter, but he did and his eyes dropped to the hands hovering over his belt. Michel was distractible when he allowed himself to be, and fiercly determined when he wanted to be. He'd played the Game long enough to know when his attention was tryig to be diverted and, arguably, Zevran was good at it.

"Non...please..." Michel murmured, he didn't stop him, but he hoped that Zevran would take his words seriously. He trusted that a 'no' would stay his hands. Knowing that he was going to have to be a bit more direct, Michel braced himself, pushing both hands against the nearest wall and pushing until his knuckles were white. He couldn't move the wall, but it almost seemed if he tried hard enough, then perhaps, "...I should put it another way, I'm in love with you, I have been for a while...but I've kept it to myself just to remain close to you. It's dishonest, it feels dishonest..."