He allowed your lips to feather across his fingers, keeping his gaze calmly leveled onto yours. His eyes didn't seem quite as serene, more of a mysterious dance. "I suppose I would fit the description better, wouldn't I?"
He doesn't move from his spot as you turn, even though it might have required a step back. He's completely at ease, and smiling at you. Although, as you begin to speak... and continue to speak, that smile drops off, and his eyes take on a darker depth. Your words tease him, rippling into the triggers of his brain, and the turn to your voice sobers him further. His own voice now, is low. "And you think you're... near your expiration date?" A hand slides up to rest gently on the scarf on your neck, finger and thumb smoothing against the fabric, as he waits for your answer.
His eyebrows rise gradually as you jump up and scurry your distance over to the sink. He watches your tense movements, the merriment still lurking in his eyes even as his smile goes to a more neutral pose. With your back turned, it's not until he's right behind you that he talks, his words soft and close - close enough you might have felt it on the back of your neck, if it hadn't been covered. "You seem nervous."
"What is it that I'm saying that could mean... more?" His eyes are dancing, and he willingly lets his gaze drop to the scarf. Though you're trying to divert the conversation, he'll let it slide, for now. "I wouldn't mind it staying for just a bit longer." He settles back in his chair and smiles. "I'll let you know if I change my mind."
First you're making him stare as he watches your throat bob, swallowing the drink. The motion makes him crave to follow the same quenching procedure, only with a different means of liquid. And then you're taunting him with a rather exquisitely painted scarf. His smile is more genuine than his earlier blank ones. "Very nice." And lets his eyes travel back to yours, and continues to hold eye contact.