"I haven't painted in several years, Romilda. I don't think I'm in any place to be choosy." Wayne's hand began to close around hers, until he felt the cigarette begin to bow in his palm. With a laugh, he was reminded of his own gift, and just how insignificant it really was, in comparison to what she had given him. Still, he released her hand so he could open his for her, palm up. Thankfully he hadn't broken it. Though he could have showed her how to smoke it, anyway. And without magic fixing it.
"I know you probably don't smoke, but...at some point in everyone's life, they probably need it. It's not much, but at least it's a good brand." With a bashful smile, he pressed it back into her waiting hand before curling her fingers around it.
Wayne met her eyes, then, curious as to what he would find. He knew what he was feeling. The sense of pleasant, grateful surprise was still written all over his refined features. It wasn't just that she had listened to him and created a place for him to practice a hobby he would have never normally been able to, but that she'd done it with her own humble supplies. He thought the best gifts were the ones that didn't cost a thing.