Re: Good diner: Max and Gwen
Max had never contemplated the parallel between radium and caffeine. He contemplated it now, entirely gravely. He removed the glasses and dangled them by one arm as he rubbed his palm across the rough grey-white of his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose. "There's a conundrum," he said, his voice slow and thoughtful. "Can't prove a negative, can you now?"
Max had no such guilt about sweet things. Possibly because he cared very little about what he ingested and was usually distracted in the consumption of whatever it is it was. There were some lawyers who bought expensive suits, and gym memberships, and who considered what they consumed all those late nights in the office. Max had eaten pizza, folded in half, and tried not to dribble sauce over his briefs.
There was something about Max's mouth that twitched amusement as he played willing audience to what was promising to be a show. But his eyes went wide and his chin came down at that all-too-translatable sign-language, and there was a clatter of ice against plastic glass before he put ice-water in front of her.
"Drink," Max advised, and his voice was as solemn as one man holding onto laughter could make it. "Maybe try eating, not inhaling."