He stared at her as she seemed to babble, an arched eyebrow lifting upon his forehead, lips pulling back into that smirk after the martini had been subtly stolen from them by the tip of his tongue.
The words hung for just long enough for the ambient noise to start to intrude again before the soft voice that contrasted the severe lines of his face cut through it to her once more.
“You get verbose when you are nervous, don’t you.”
Contractions were not something he used often, in fact he often made a point to avoid them, but to speak around that particular point left her too much wiggle room to get out of his statement.