Her frame remains still, she's not one to fidget & muck about. Not unless she's trying to disarm you. She won't try that with Frank. She's very aware of who he is, what he does, โโ it doesn't phase her in the slightest. A brow twitches up at his comment, shifting attention on her appearance, a smirk prancing upon velvets. " Nice vest. " And she returns it, a substitute, for a simple 'thank you' would hardly suffice. Head tilts again, Lara's signature ponytail braid swinging back & forth, as palms retreat to bare hips. In doing so, she puffs her chest out, exhaling dramatically for extra emphasis. " I prefer Business, actually. Blame the frugal in me. " And with that, she breathes in the Paris air, surprisingly in a favourable mood considering. Running for her life, fighting for her innocence, stealing here & there โโ [THOUGH THE LATTER SEEMS TO BE A NORM FOR HER.]
Mental notes are being taken. Eyes scanning him, up & down, as if he's another one of her milestones โ travel sites she likes to never forget. It's not that he's sweet to look at, ( ๐๐ท๐ฐ๐'๐ ๐ผ๐พ๐๐๐ป๐ ๐ฐ ๐ฑ๐พ๐ฝ๐๐ ) but he strangely reminds her of ... herself. Only from first glance. Lara would hate to admit she's found her, kindred spirit in a vigilante no less. The mere thought shakes her awake. Hands remove themselves from hips, and instead hang over her holster, a feeble(?) attempt at establishing control. It's a little pathetic, the sudden threat she feels coming from his frame. Causes her to pull her hands out of her wrists, take two short strides towards him, and hold up two digits that wrap around his cigarette โโ stealthy & firm, her grip tightens, stealing his smoke and returning back to her original spot. The smirk should be enough to steady the banter, but as she inhales, leaving her two digits held around it, her eyes narrow up at him. " I do have a few questions for you, though. Hope that's not a turn-off. " Brows wiggle, pearls flashed.
" How is The Punisher planning to jail-break me out of Paris? " She exhales her second toke, before resuming her short strides, arriving back at his front, and still holding his cigarette between her two lips. It's a challenge, to see if he'll bite. And if he does, she'll only want another. Face relaxes โ no smirk, no squinted eyes, no cheekiness. A second of honesty.
" See. You're not the only one who's a fan. "
And that pesky little smile returns once again.
