At a time when she’ll have learnt to properly exercise the social graces instilled in her throughout her childhood, all this tip-toeing around during that transitioning period between stranger and acquaintance will surely seem so silly in retrospective. In fact, even now, although by her own reckoning some way to go before such an achievement, Elisabeth is able to acknowledge how peculiar her manner must seem to any outsider, and all the more so to one in her immediate presence.
'Modest to a fault', she thinks she recalls Father's attempt at constructive criticism. Still, even if she's struggling along in conversation now, she seems to be having some success.
As much as she had been fretting over unduly keeping his company only moments ago - even throughout their chance meeting so far - it is little wonder that she had failed to consider a conclusion more…well, overall favourable, simply put. She would have to admit that she personally finds no attraction in her own association, habitual self-depreciative though she isn’t. Honestly and sincerely, to imagine many a couple of strangers having begun their acquaintanceship like this is a difficulty; to spend a while (however long) discussing the content of this title or another strikes her as the sort of thing college students on the same course would do, rather than all-but strangers. What’s proposed here, really, is just one of those things ─ the alien-to-her-but-surely-commonplace-to-anyone-else sort of thing.
Although, of course, the young woman can’t immediately disagree, herself having confessed to bearing some small want to continue talk not all that long before.
She’s left regarding him, he whose amiable accommodation seems to know no bounds still, for a second or two of curious silence before she remembers her manners ─ a shameful little hiccup on her part, but as ever, she makes no grand outward fuss over the matter. Setting aside whatever distraction comes with the novelty of the idea itself, an answer reveals itself to her easily and shortly enough, she’s relieved to find. Coerce the gentleman to continue their hushed talk certainly isn’t something she could have done (or, indeed, could ever do), yet if he himself is the one to suggest moving their conversation beyond the quiet library walls, he must at least fancy the idea of his own accord.
If only to ensure she hasn’t misinterpreted the other’s words here, she figuratively prods at the matter once more, right hand absently toying with a lock of hair. “Ah, you truly wouldn’t mind that?” She can’t quite expect him to immediately go back on his suggestion, but taking care in fostering this new acquaintanceship - if it to last beyond these few minutes - is a wise idea.
"Now - or soon afterwards - is quite fine for myself," (still the irony of speaking in those subdued tones, and still she internally winces) "so mutual convenience permitting, it would be a pleasure."
Whilst speaking to those of more eloquent names and bearing more than the clothes on their back in accompaniment, his entire disposition is centered around mirroring and mimicking. Need he appease a businessman with a firm handshake, he can do so with ease. Should he come across a woman with a familiar last name and delicate features, she should hardly expect that he might treat her with anything but the utmost respect and dignity. Thus, his tactics can be summed up in a series of pretenses.
It doesn't take much to realize that this conversation, even at its core, is no different.
Even so, he does appreciate the knowledge she puts forth. Undeniable charm emanates from the blonde, her mannerisms leading him to believe that there hasn't been a single slip-up in his behavior. On an off day, even the deepest of qualms evade him and leave his intentions flying below the radar. Those with suspicions can always be swayed - after all, their reasons for having such concerns are easily manipulated when cracked open and broken apart. The way he sees it, one can typically feel someone's greatest fears through the tone of their voice. By far, this is one thing that Hans enjoys to no end-- even if his expression says otherwise, discussing subjects that leave the wool and skin of lambs crawling and itching leaves him rather elated. Despicable? Sure, but that hardly changes the reality of how little shame he feels in consequence.
Before he has the chance to bask in the notion that she's offering a window for another vast lie, an idea prompts something similar to a sudden influx of dopamine. It's not enough to cause his pupils to dilate, but it assists in helping him seem all the more enthused to lead them towards the library's main desk.
"Not in the slightest!" He affirms, but not before another smile. "Ah, did you want to get the book checked out before we go?" 'We' is such a subjective term, and yet… it always acts sufficiently in implying that their 'destiny' (which they've so pleasantly been discussing) is already sealed. Destiny, however, is far too wide a scope. What is concrete, however, is the rest of their afternoon, which he hopes will have little to no interruptions. As luck would have it, his acquaintance is happy to keep him company for just a tad longer.
Officially, this could go just about anywhere. "I wouldn't want you to miss out on such a good read for the sake of my incessant rambling." Two can play the hesitant game-- even if one is significantly less sincere. Entertaining the idea of how circumstances might be if she were more forward or - of course - skeptical of his kindness, Hans appreciates the alternative.
