Her brow knits together, and Faith instinctively takes two full steps backward, out of Angel's wider-than-she-thought personal bubble. She was good at reading signals (nothing to do with the slayer so much as everything to do with a broken home life) and even if she wasn't, that would've been a big red flag. Angel could sometimes be a little klutzy when he was forced into a situation he wasn't used to or couldn't navigate for whatever reason.

This shouldn't be one of those times. "Didn't mean anything by it."

Not that that's really what she's saying. Sure, those are the words that come out of her mouth, but in a hollow sense that meant no real text had carried by them. It was filler, while she watched Angel with a look akin to predator hunting prey -- something's hinky and she's learned over the years when to leap and when to heel. If he needed a little space, she could give it. For a moment, anyway.