[even if there had been any real danger in that question, it would have elicited the same response from Vincent. he chuckles lowly, shoving his hands nonchalantly into his jacket pockets. his fingers curl around the notebook resting there almost protectively, as if he expects to be accosted in an instant.
his mind knows better, though. they've only spent a single evening together, but Kit is clearly the sort of person who uses finesse to filch people of what he wants if he can't get them to hand it over themselves. a full-blown assault would be closer to his own style.]
There's nothing personal about them.
[his gaze flicks downward to follow Kit's descent, brows already bent in minor annoyance. it was back again, that trait which had irritated him so much about this boy earlier - that damned habit of simply making assumptions about what he must be feeling. there was no reason for him to have drawn that conclusion based on his responses otherwise.]
I'd have to be a fucking idiot to write anything personal in something that dozens of people are going to hear. Most of them aren't smart enough to get it in the first place.
no subject
his mind knows better, though. they've only spent a single evening together, but Kit is clearly the sort of person who uses finesse to filch people of what he wants if he can't get them to hand it over themselves. a full-blown assault would be closer to his own style.]
There's nothing personal about them.
[his gaze flicks downward to follow Kit's descent, brows already bent in minor annoyance. it was back again, that trait which had irritated him so much about this boy earlier - that damned habit of simply making assumptions about what he must be feeling. there was no reason for him to have drawn that conclusion based on his responses otherwise.]
I'd have to be a fucking idiot to write anything personal in something that dozens of people are going to hear. Most of them aren't smart enough to get it in the first place.