[She's pretty, in a surly, sullen kind of way. It's an observation, detached and objective: the same sense that exudes from his mind. He has no walls to speak of, hasn't attempted to construct any, but right in this moment the heavy feeling of watching may as well stand in for them. A sharp, unrelenting desire to learn. To know. All of it currently directed at her.
He doesn't say anything to explain or excuse it. Just lifts one gloved hand to slide into the wrap of his robes at the chest, fetching out a slim silver cigarette case. Flipping it open to offer her one, as smooth as an old movie.
But they weren't usually covered head to foot in layers of fabric in those movies.]
Might want to savour it. They're in short supply.
[The case is almost full. He hasn't had any since he got here.]
no subject
He doesn't say anything to explain or excuse it. Just lifts one gloved hand to slide into the wrap of his robes at the chest, fetching out a slim silver cigarette case. Flipping it open to offer her one, as smooth as an old movie.
But they weren't usually covered head to foot in layers of fabric in those movies.]
Might want to savour it. They're in short supply.
[The case is almost full. He hasn't had any since he got here.]