Re: Log, Webster's Vinyl: Daniel W & Newt P
The smile on Daniel's face brought Newt's moth-fickle gaze in like flame, then out, as if skirting for safety. He messed about with his fringe a moment, before bringing his hand back to his own teacup, fingers finding their place as a bird to familiar perch. He pressed his lips together. He was exasperated, because while Daniel might've been British, his manner of broaching a topic could border on American, the younger man was learning. Still, Newt was unwilling to speak. No, not at all. "Yes. Someone I should not've been with." Now he was conflating Sue and Adrian, wasn't he? It was Adrian he'd had the 'break-up' with, but Sue and Adrian were, in a manner of speaking, the same man.—The cool, if idiosyncratic clarity of Newt's normal thinking felt a touch frazzled. He continued, in spite of this. "But, I did it, so here I am. Not unwitting, but not unchafed, shall we say."
The redheaded man turned his cup about in its saucer. He took up the spoon, dragging its silver belly along china lip, and lifted the cup thoughtfully. His gaze darted to Daniel with its usual unpredictable pattern. "We're attempting to bridge the gap, I think. Or we were. Now that he's younger than me, I don't know what it is we're doing, really." Curiosity wore itself with the brightness of a new penny on Newt's face. He might not've looked directly at the vampire, but the question didn't skitter similarly. "Do you remember being 20? Were you much different?"
The show of teeth earned a look through ginger fringe, and Newt only inclined his head briefly, before he took a sip of his tea. He was well-behaved. If he thought of perhaps enticing the man with more baring of his throat—what mattered was that he didn't.