Cormac smiled at her warmly when she laughed. "Well, you can always prove me wrong. It's okay to. You actually, if I remember correctly, like to prove me wrong anyway," he teased with the same warm smile. He laughed and shook his head. "Because I never settle for second best. I want the best - first place. Second best has never been good enough for me," he told her, sincerely. Strangely, his tone didn't carry arrogance or even misguided confidence. It was just the way it was; something he had expected in himself instead. He wanted the best. He wasn't saying he was the best, though. It was a fine line that he was threading without even a worry in his tone or eyes.
He saw her pause, watching her closely. He liked to pretend he could read people, even when they were like Astoria and were hard to impossible to read. Even now. Was the pause to suggest she wanted him to leave but didn't want to say it herself? Was the pause surprise that he hadn't turn tail and ran himself? What did it mean? He had no idea. He smiled. "Then we are in agreement. I can make myself at home." And I can stay, he added to himself. Despite him, there was a bit of a pride that she wasn't just kicking him out. He didn't want to be used by her. Normally, he'd be okay with it, but he wasn't with her. He wanted something different, something more meaningful. Something that wasn't just like it was with everyone else.
When she willingly moved against his side, he glanced at her. He was so tempted to try to pull her on his lap, but he really didn't want to be kicked out or slapped. It would ruin tonight and he really didn't want to ruin tonight. Instead, he rubbed her shoulder as he dropped his head to rest on hers against him. It was good enough for now. He looked over at the painting thoughtfully. "Would it be cheesy and trite to say I don't know art but I know what I like?" he asked, jokingly. "No actually I've been dragged to enough museums and the like to know.. it's good. It has the color display that is varying that clearly took more time than some standard piece in a doctor's waiting room and the play on shadows that says it's not just a painting of the river, but of something. It's trying to capture something. And I think that something depends on who is looking at it. If you want it to be capturing the darker side of London, it can. Or the lonely nights that you're surrounded by shadows rather than people in a city of a million people. Or whatever you want. I'm not an artist, but I like the ones that make me think beyond just what's there. That painting makes me think of beyond what's there," he said. He wasn't trying to impress her. It was just what happens when your parents try to instill culture in you. He couldn't ignore all those museum visits or pretend he hadn't heard people talk over and over as they stared at paintings or sculptures. "Yeah, I like it, by the way, but yeah, it's still just another painting to me." He would have shrugged, but it would mean moving and he didn't want to.