The Bourbon weighted down on his laps as Kevin gave Remy the choice of whether they could continue to dance in circles, or if they would finally get down to it and lay everything out in the open. He was hoping for the latter, of course, but he still understood that secrets existed for a reason, and whatever it was that Remy was holding onto, it was held onto for a reason as well.
So he sat, and he patiently waited, swirling the souvenir glass without taking a sip and watching the liquid distort his reflection with mild interest. When Remy spoke at last, of cautionary tales, his brows furrowed for a split second before his expression softened and he gave a shake of his head.
"Not particularly, no." His lips curled in a lopsided grin as he lifted up his head to give Remy a self-deprecating glance. "I don't have the good looks like you do, Remy. I wouldn't look good on a poster." He smirked then and muttered, "Unless they airbrush me to oblivion."
The truth was at the tip of Remy's tongue, he could tell, but yet he still didn't push or attempt to pry Remy's mouth open. He only waited, patience and understanding on his glance, and let Remy take his time.