[ Don takes the compact without comment, though she can read what she will in his half-submerged smile and the amused look that goes with it. He studies his face in the mirror.
Then his gaze breaks away. He rolls his eyes, laughs once through his teeth. With a decisive snap he shuts the compact. Holds it out to her. ] You don't like it? [ He raises his eyebrows, maintains a fleeting innocence before lapsing into a smirk meant, like a nudging elbow, to invite her into the joke.
It doesn't last: she mentions dreams and he swallows, looks at her while trying to muster words. He sets his shoulders; shadows have collected in the hollows of his face. ] Do you smoke?
no subject
Then his gaze breaks away. He rolls his eyes, laughs once through his teeth. With a decisive snap he shuts the compact. Holds it out to her. ] You don't like it? [ He raises his eyebrows, maintains a fleeting innocence before lapsing into a smirk meant, like a nudging elbow, to invite her into the joke.
It doesn't last: she mentions dreams and he swallows, looks at her while trying to muster words. He sets his shoulders; shadows have collected in the hollows of his face. ] Do you smoke?