If Desire notices the fade, he makes no comment: Matter of fact, he picks this moment to look away, fiddling in a suddenly present cellophane pack for a fresh cigarette.
"Here," he says, shaking the filtered end out of the paper. "Bet you could use one of these."
He lights up one-handed, not waiting to see whether Jack to take one or not: There's a pause where the flame remains dancing in the golden lighter, warm light flickering in those familiar eyes.
no subject
"Here," he says, shaking the filtered end out of the paper. "Bet you could use one of these."
He lights up one-handed, not waiting to see whether Jack to take one or not: There's a pause where the flame remains dancing in the golden lighter, warm light flickering in those familiar eyes.