✉ ➺ 𝒴ou’ve got mail! ➺ ℱormulating response…Classification: PLAYING OTHER MUSES || ACCEPTING.
IT TAKES HIM BUT A MOMENT to take note of her presence. And, when he does, it is with an unmistakable shrewdness in his gaze. These are the eyes of a man who does not have a lick of trust to spare ( a man who watches constantly not out of fear, not out of need, but out of paranoia more than anything else ). They linger, not unlike leeches unable to drink their fill of blood, back upon the woman scrutinising him.
❝ May I… help you, miss? ❞ — Uttered with more than a noticeable hint of distaste as he tucks his unlit cigarette quickly back into the disguise case from which he only just withdrew it. Relaxation, a retreat into the dim placidity drawn from the first drag of a lit cigarette… it would be a welcome luxury after a day of long yet fruitful labour. But not right now, and not in the company of a strange and feminine presence.
Never is the BLU spy one to forgo his vices, nor to consider the non-smoker’s reception to the all-pervasive stink of his tobacco. He hardly cares, if ever, to partake in secrecy or even to palm his little paper tubes of vice at first sign of a wrinkling nose. Many ladies, in fact, turn towards him in these times; often they would flick a wrist, lightly as if they thought themselves coy nymphs of some sort, with unlit cigarette grasped loosely between fingers and with expectancy in their eyes.
And he would light their cigarettes, like a gentleman. He doesn’t like it, of course, but he’ll do it. A woman who carries not her own cigarettes or lighter – or else considers them nothing more than decorative paperweights for her pocket – and goes in search of another’s indulgences is at most an odd one, And, at the least, a rude one.
Spy’s temporary refrainment is not to be taken as kindness. Rather, the brusqueness with which he shoves his Kent back into its case would be correctly perceived only as impatience. The stranger had swept in, taken away his delight in the comforting flood of smoke in his bronchials, and now silently demands ( whether she thinks of it as demanding or not ) his attention with her glance.
Begrudgingly, he offers it. Not without a deep frown not in his lips, but in the form of a pressing line above his brow. But for now, nevertheless, the woman has his eyes and ears.
✧・゚:* [ @explosivestorm ]