Lion Head Mesa [sc] [M] Diamonds Under my Eyes

i'm not stupid, izaiah makes a tch sound with his teeth, the boredom returning to the obsidian-carved face. i think you'll find i'm a man of many talents.
he would do well here because he had to. not for the sake of hassan, but for the sake of himself.
i think i can appreciate looking... imagining. perhaps it was the wine which now circulated his bloodstream and brought heat to the tips of his ears, but now the boy felt himself laughing, a bellow that purled from somewhere deep in his chest. i'm not sure whether i should take that as a compliment or not.
there was something like a shift to machiavelli's demeanor; it read immediately as histrionic, one flashy mask torn off only to reveal another. perhaps izaiah was doing the same, entertaining it, taking the bait that was so clearly tied to a string. perhaps he could not help himself.
no, he replies, gaze now unabashedly roving from the pale chest down to the slender hips. which isn't good. i shouldn't 'drink' on an empty stomach.
are you offering?