[A brush of lips to his hairline. Owlish eyes glance upward. His mind turns the gesture over in his mind, as if pondering just how to unravel it. The dull thrum of the blood that had rushed to his head offers him no aid in this instance.
Instead, its met with a warm smile and the acceptance of a part well-played.
While the offered linen isn't a monogrammed handkerchief in the slightest, it stirs an amused twinkle in Baptiste's eyes. A glimmer that begins to cut through a bleary gaze. His head is leaden as he slowly pulls it away from the hand that had been a life line. Moments before. His body basks in its languid afterglow, and Baptiste finds there are no strings attached. No simmering powerplays beneath the surface. No gnawing influence. Not even a spare, roguish urge to press his luck.
It's a stillness that brings out a bewildered laugh. Baptiste is not a man to know 'still' and yet he sits before this relative stranger in just that.
He reaches out to take the offered napkin. His fingers brush the other's in the gesture before he sets to wiping up.]
I should be thanking you, sir. [The title itself is nearly sung in its newly won irreverence.] I do love to put on a show.
[He may as well have said, "I do love a chance to show-off." Regardless, the point stands. All while a satisfied smile plays at his features.]
no subject
Instead, its met with a warm smile and the acceptance of a part well-played.
While the offered linen isn't a monogrammed handkerchief in the slightest, it stirs an amused twinkle in Baptiste's eyes. A glimmer that begins to cut through a bleary gaze. His head is leaden as he slowly pulls it away from the hand that had been a life line. Moments before. His body basks in its languid afterglow, and Baptiste finds there are no strings attached. No simmering powerplays beneath the surface. No gnawing influence. Not even a spare, roguish urge to press his luck.
It's a stillness that brings out a bewildered laugh. Baptiste is not a man to know 'still' and yet he sits before this relative stranger in just that.
He reaches out to take the offered napkin. His fingers brush the other's in the gesture before he sets to wiping up.]
I should be thanking you, sir. [The title itself is nearly sung in its newly won irreverence.] I do love to put on a show.
[He may as well have said, "I do love a chance to show-off." Regardless, the point stands. All while a satisfied smile plays at his features.]