Klaus stood just a little bit taller (or a significant amount, depending on who you asked) all of his gangly limbs contained in his six foot frame. But still he shrank back slightly, peeping through his fingers when Alex approached with the cigarette. Both of them were slight of frame, too, so hopefully there'd be no strong winds any time soon, otherwise the both of them would be in trouble.
Tentatively, Klaus reached out, looking around skittishly as he took the cigarette to his lips and drew in a drag. He nodded his head, because he wanted to believe that. Alex wasn't. Alex was nice. But Klaus was still not sure he could trust who else was here.
"I see them," he murmured. That was all. Just that admission. Then he was happy to turn to Alex and let himself be...taken care of? "Seventy? Seventy...Seventy two?" Maybe? "It's blue. It looks like a pair of jeans." Paint peeling, kind of scuffed. "I don't know where it is, but it's here somewhere, and I'm getting cold." The drugs were obviously not going to do their thing. But the cigarette was helping. "Thank you for this."