[ though he's earnest in his offer, he doesn't expect her to actually follow through on accepting it, since he just imagines she wouldn't want to take something that's been in his mouth to put into her own. but his brow raises when she takes the cigar from his lips, the lack of it allowing him to curl his lips in for a moment to relax them again. for a moment, he directs his eyes in looking at her, in how she takes in the smoke, thinking of what the scent of it means to her, how it might be transporting her to a moment of the past with a simple whiff.
turning his head down again to his honest attempt at putting together a decent doll, he gets caught up in the wrap of the string, tightening it as he aligns the sticks just right to where he wants them. it'd be easy to not care about the effort, and mostly he wouldn't, but it gives him something to do with his hands, and he likes doing things right if he's going to bother doing it.
mostly, he can keep a straight face, especially in something of an interrogation, but with his focus on the doll, he doesn't expect her to bring up the poem, his fingers momentarily stilling as she catches him off track with the compliment.
the stillness is brief, moving his hands calmly as if nothing had disturbed him at all, even if there's the slightest hint of a tighter knit between his brows, his eyes not looking up to her. ] What poem? Something you read in your books?
no subject
turning his head down again to his honest attempt at putting together a decent doll, he gets caught up in the wrap of the string, tightening it as he aligns the sticks just right to where he wants them. it'd be easy to not care about the effort, and mostly he wouldn't, but it gives him something to do with his hands, and he likes doing things right if he's going to bother doing it.
mostly, he can keep a straight face, especially in something of an interrogation, but with his focus on the doll, he doesn't expect her to bring up the poem, his fingers momentarily stilling as she catches him off track with the compliment.
the stillness is brief, moving his hands calmly as if nothing had disturbed him at all, even if there's the slightest hint of a tighter knit between his brows, his eyes not looking up to her. ] What poem? Something you read in your books?