He laughed at that little flex, his brow raising as he leaned dramatically away from her. Still, she was complimenting him, in a backhanded and amusing way he could certainly appreciate. When moments later she admitted she was a fellow tenant at Pax, Samuel felt truly pleased he had engaged in such juvenile mockery earlier; it wasn't every day a first meeting went so well, and with a neighbor, to boot.
"And definitely not one so damned charming, I'm sure," he added helpfully. "What are those odds, I wonder?" His fingertips drummed against the chilled sides of the cup, his face drawn into a feigned look of careful contemplation. "I think all this is a sign. I'm obviously meant to bet on your next fight."
He shifted in his seat, wincing as the deep bruise at his stomach angrily protested the small motion. "So when are you gonna start up private lessons for your fellow tenants?" he teased. "I might even be able to write that off as a work expense."
(omggggg yes. Samuel did about the same - the TV's the nicest thing in his house. He'll bring over a stack of DVDs/Blurays and they can fight over who gets to choose the movie. LAWL.)