"If I would have been capable of breaking under pressure, Jane, you would be conversing with my pieces."
Making an improvement of his posture, even if that were hardly necessary, the small, inky pools of his pupils swelled and fluctuated; suddenly smitten with an idea. He'd had a thought then that she was some kind of pretty ghost that haunted these hallways, causing the elevators to misfire, and an appealing game to play would be to ask her many questions that he would not usually ask so openly, or boldly. Not that he lacked any kind of boldness. Indeed, he was more forthright than many. It was just that in his idle time, tonight especially, he had felt as if his surroundings were becoming more and more of a prisonic entrapment. And games, oh, with people... those were the highlight of his nights... perhaps a lie, or two, will do ... ah, she wasn't a ghost, this he knew. However, wouldn't it be clever to go a'hunting? Yes, you should lie. It's not so far-fetched!
"As it is you're meeting me in tact. You've also come at an integral time." his chin took an angle of integrity, a tilt at a left incline that seemed, in the sallow and dim light, to distinguish a knowledgeable chisel in his cheekbones. He might have been a well-learned man. A scholar. A fool. An anything. The confidence of course, with which he projected, was ever a quality naturally built in in all human beings--it was just that Miles was accustomed to summoning it.
He'd perched the knuckles of one of his hands against his hip and studied her. Mysterious things always appealed to him more so than tedious, regular ones, and she was being mysterious. She had omitted as much detail as someone cunning would. She was a kitsune in a court of rowdy emperors. One of the kharites that hides out in Eros' bedroom to avoid Zeus. It was more fun creating stories for her than knowing her truth! And he took a few steps into her direction before halting again and explaining himself more fully.
"I was just considering the existence of ghosts. I do not believe in them as much as say, superstitious school teachers might, but life on my floor is uncreative, tedious, and terrible. I pleaded to ennui to find me something with which to amuse myself. Lo' and behold... I've arrived on the wrong floor. A coincidence. What is it that made you wander the halls" he glanced down at her naked feet. "Boredom?"