James chuckles a little at the purposeful mimicry of his own speech, taking the mockery for what it is. That is, among other things, probably deserved.
Pretty things. Like Jack's some kind of magpie, attracted to beautiful, shining things, collecting them when he can- the jewels on his fingers- or just looking, when he can't actually catch them. James rather likes the image. He's distracted from any such thoughts, though, when Jack shifts to bring himself closer, the edges of their bodies touching slightly.
It's the sort of closeness where you're not sure if eye contact is a good thing or not. James is good at making himself unreadable, though, so he moulds his face into a half-amused expression of intrigue, his eyes sliding up to meet Jack's. His voice is soft when he speaks, as befitting the suddenly reduced amount of air space between them.
'Oh really? And what sorts of things might those be, Mr. Sparrow?'
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-10-21 06:43 am (UTC)Pretty things. Like Jack's some kind of magpie, attracted to beautiful, shining things, collecting them when he can- the jewels on his fingers- or just looking, when he can't actually catch them. James rather likes the image. He's distracted from any such thoughts, though, when Jack shifts to bring himself closer, the edges of their bodies touching slightly.
It's the sort of closeness where you're not sure if eye contact is a good thing or not. James is good at making himself unreadable, though, so he moulds his face into a half-amused expression of intrigue, his eyes sliding up to meet Jack's. His voice is soft when he speaks, as befitting the suddenly reduced amount of air space between them.
'Oh really? And what sorts of things might those be, Mr. Sparrow?'