[Vincent scoffs, gingerly leaning back against the bench. it wasn't just benches that he'd refined this skill on, but that was clearly a detail whose sharing would be wasted on the current uncultured audience.]

Just wait until I master sleeping through assholes who don't know when to shut up. They'll be giving giving me a medal then.

[it's abundantly clear who the blabbermouth annoyance is supposed to be, but his tone is conversational enough that it's quite difficult to find reason to take any real offense. for someone as unpleasant as Vincent often tends to be, it's surprisingly easy to differentiate true insults and his own strange way of carrying on a talk.

it's not like he minds the distraction from his poor night's rest, anyway. there's something funny about the idea of Kit being plagued enough to return and check on him, of being interested in what his company might be able to offer enough to stay and trade barbs. on some hidden level he wants to see where it goes.]