[his head turns just a fraction, eye glancing down at the wavy wheat-blonde, trying to gauge that release against him -- but then the relieved sigh against his pallid, freckled neck makes him twitch, startle straight forward once more, all awkward and young]
[(at least she was relaxed, anyway)]
[he mumbles, clumsily but earnestly]
Y'wanna smoke?
[but he doesn't wait for an answer, and the pack and lighter are tugged, a bit ungraceful, out of his jeans pocket (he always has them on him just -- just in case it starts to get bad again)]
[a flare and a spark, he lights one in his mouth, passes it down with ash flecking across bruised knuckles; he doesn't know how else to offer warmth, to make her feel part of something even when she's isolated from someone important]
[he sighs that first inhale out, fog above those wheat-fields below]
Re: action;
[(at least she was relaxed, anyway)]
[he mumbles, clumsily but earnestly]
Y'wanna smoke?
[but he doesn't wait for an answer, and the pack and lighter are tugged, a bit ungraceful, out of his jeans pocket (he always has them on him just -- just in case it starts to get bad again)]
[a flare and a spark, he lights one in his mouth, passes it down with ash flecking across bruised knuckles; he doesn't know how else to offer warmth, to make her feel part of something even when she's isolated from someone important]
[he sighs that first inhale out, fog above those wheat-fields below]