Re: Log, Webster's Vinyl: Daniel W & Newt P Did it seem like a good idea at the time, or, rather, did it seem like a not bad idea at the time? Newt flushed slightly, cheeks taking on the hue of the constellatory, ubiquitous freckles. "I knew walking in I was making a poor choice, unfortunately." Perhaps that was part of the appeal? If it was, Newt certainly didn't need to admit it to himself and not now. He shook his head in another jostle of fringe, and he took in Daniel's smile from his tangential angle. He smiled back, as most do when they're smiled at, even if he wasn't entirely sure what the expression was in response to. The younger man sipped at his tea, though it'd not yet steeped long enough. Another head-shake. "No. We hardly know one another. I hardly knew him at the age he is now. I would've been... 12 or 13, and I was off at school." Which was hardly the point. "He's always been off, doing whatever it is Jack does. And I, doing whatever it is I do." He blinked, once, twice, three times.
It was only then that he caught the exasperated look, the glance and skew of gaze to throat, and Newt let his hand fall to the table top. He hooked a finger through the ear of his tea cup and fiddled about with it. "I was only wondering if I should cover up," he admitted dryly and with the slight slant of a smile, his own gaze on finicky fingers.