Whoa. She just pulled his chair out-- isn't he supposed to do that? Like, as a gentleman or whatever?
...well, okay, Jeff and gentleman don't exactly go together, anyway. And regardless, it feels kinda nice. He flashes a smile in thanks and has a seat, looking over the spread, before his attention's immediately drawn back to Deirdre.
Sooo... This is business that could potentially turn into a pleasure situation? Jeff grins, and there's a slightly dazed, "Right on..."
At the question of employment, he has to take a moment to consider.
"Kind of?" A beat. "I mean, it's like, you know, I do things here and there, like odd jobs? And I'm kinda... I help out the candymaker." When he actually makes it to the shop. Jeff's work ethic is a frustrating blend of earnest and spotty. He works his ass off-- when he bothers to show up.
Excitedly, he adds, "I've been saving up for a guitar, though, I mean that's my real--" He waves a hand. Job. Passion. Whatever. It's an all-encompassing handwave. "Back home, it was getting to where my band--" Wince. "I mean. Where I could, like, mostly get by on just my music. It was pretty much what I put everything into, I mean, practicing, writing music, performing gigs, day and night--" He smiles dreamily for a moment... then remembers the actual question.
Now enjoy this clueless head tilt, all wide eyed innocence. He has no idea what's in store. And he's feeling a tiny bit like prey under her gaze, but... That's not a bad thing, and it's far from unwelcome.
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...well, okay, Jeff and gentleman don't exactly go together, anyway. And regardless, it feels kinda nice. He flashes a smile in thanks and has a seat, looking over the spread, before his attention's immediately drawn back to Deirdre.
Sooo... This is business that could potentially turn into a pleasure situation? Jeff grins, and there's a slightly dazed, "Right on..."
At the question of employment, he has to take a moment to consider.
"Kind of?" A beat. "I mean, it's like, you know, I do things here and there, like odd jobs? And I'm kinda... I help out the candymaker." When he actually makes it to the shop. Jeff's work ethic is a frustrating blend of earnest and spotty. He works his ass off-- when he bothers to show up.
Excitedly, he adds, "I've been saving up for a guitar, though, I mean that's my real--" He waves a hand. Job. Passion. Whatever. It's an all-encompassing handwave. "Back home, it was getting to where my band--" Wince. "I mean. Where I could, like, mostly get by on just my music. It was pretty much what I put everything into, I mean, practicing, writing music, performing gigs, day and night--" He smiles dreamily for a moment... then remembers the actual question.
Now enjoy this clueless head tilt, all wide eyed innocence. He has no idea what's in store. And he's feeling a tiny bit like prey under her gaze, but... That's not a bad thing, and it's far from unwelcome.
"Why?"