While Lust gave the driver instructions, Desmond was in the process of seating himself, his companion's carry-on tucked away in the footwell nearby. He smiled reflexively when she sat so close beside him, oblivious to the look on her face since he was too busy admiring the Sin's fine legs. "Hm? Oh."
Dragging his attention back up -- this was Lust, so she could hardly blame him, now could she? -- he blinked a few times before really looking at her. Rather than answer right away, he shifted to wind the arm she was leaning against around her, absentmindedly brushing fingers over her shoulder. Desmond couldn't quite sing her praises enough for being so accommodating about physical contact. He felt the need to reach out and touch anything, everything, just for the sensation. Lust, it seemed, could appreciate that.
"Just a sense of trouble on the wind. Didn't get that out west, I take it? Guess you wouldn't, considering how dead the place must be in terms of our lot. This damn city's like a powder keg ready to go off." The New God grinned when he said it; the words sounded a little scathing, perhaps, but his sheer delight at the tension in New York shone through regardless. It wasn't a complete truth from the way he omitted Mona and Divorce's recent troubles with one another. Tonight, though? No, tonight Desmond didn't want to think about his sister-self for even a moment. He was keeping much better company.
"Forget that, though. I don't want to bore either one of us with the same blather."