[It's part of the fun of course, his attempts to get under her skin, unsettle her, leave her feeling vaguely disturbed. One has to get one's kicks from somewhere, particularly at an event such as this, where the ever-present inactivity stretches out before him for the duration of the cruise, little opportunity for the kind of pleasure he knows best unless things go terribly wrong. He can't help but hope for it.
And speaking of pleasure-- any innuendo implied in her words once again bypasses him, his own thoughts straying in a different direction, towards something dark red with a hot-penny tang, to the feel of bones giving way beneath the pressure of his hands the sound that flesh makes when it's torn open, yes, and as such his words are quiet and sly with something ominous when he utters them--]
Oh, I know how to have a good time.
[Just a soft interjection, and while he has things he could say to her other points too, could further imply his difference, try to prickle at her senses until she's sure she's in the presence of something unnatural and strange, her offer comes, and for a moment it throws him off completely.
There's the slight canine tilt of his head, something like subtle surprise showing in the angles of his expression, and when he answers this time his voice has lost some of its sardonic edge. Coloured, instead, with vague confusion.]
no subject
And speaking of pleasure-- any innuendo implied in her words once again bypasses him, his own thoughts straying in a different direction, towards something dark red with a hot-penny tang, to the feel of bones giving way beneath the pressure of his hands the sound that flesh makes when it's torn open, yes, and as such his words are quiet and sly with something ominous when he utters them--]
Oh, I know how to have a good time.
[Just a soft interjection, and while he has things he could say to her other points too, could further imply his difference, try to prickle at her senses until she's sure she's in the presence of something unnatural and strange, her offer comes, and for a moment it throws him off completely.
There's the slight canine tilt of his head, something like subtle surprise showing in the angles of his expression, and when he answers this time his voice has lost some of its sardonic edge. Coloured, instead, with vague confusion.]
...You're asking me to dance.
[A statement rather than a question, and then--]
I'm afraid I wouldn't know where to begin.