( His chuckle is low in the air and deep in his chest, over the steady crunch of snow under his boots. The fog isn't offering much in the way of visibility, but he can at least tell there aren't any obstacles liable to trip him up– twirls or no.
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. )
Really? Me too.
( But y'know, on a Professional Note™ ... )
I'll save the come ons for another time. Consider me on the clock right now.
no subject
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. )
Really? Me too.
( But y'know, on a Professional Note™ ... )
I'll save the come ons for another time. Consider me on the clock right now.