"Just between you and I, I'm not exactly a fan so far," said Nayan as they shook hands. Brodie's grasp was dry and a little cool and they let go after a very American single count hand clasp. He took the book and set it down on the arm rest, both a sign of his disapproval and that he was abandoning his previous occupation to talk. "Men and women using sex to humilate and destroy others is not, exactly, the the cheeriest subject matter and I'm at a loss as to why exactly its so important I read it at all." Besides's Sacha's unsutble attempts at improving his French so she could win eloquence arguments in her native tongue. A side long smile. "I'm not very good a reading French either actually. I'm just trying to impress a girl. Not that she will be impressed, but its the thought, I suppose, that count."
He shrugged in a sort of 'what can you do?' fashion and uncurled slightly from his criss-cross sitting position, drawing one knee up to rest his arms on as he looked askance at Brodie's inscrutable glasses. Affable stranger that he was, he sprawled in very lazy animal manner that immediately brought house cats in the sun to mind. The smell of cigarette smoke was a familiar acrid sweet aroma, reminded Nayan of home point of fact (home not being a place so much a collection of sensory information he'd compiled over the years to mean 'home').
"So," he said mildly, gaze intent. "Brodie, did you win your ticket aboard?"