[ silva downs the rest of his champagne in order to make room for bond's generous unspoken gesture, and sets the glass on the bartop with a tiny clink. his fingers remain loosely circled around the stem, faux-relaxed. the flirty grin drops slowly from his face.
he can see why bond is m's favourite. all tightly coiled, like a whip, ready to snap into action at a moment's notice. those eyes. what fervor and discipline.
well, for a given definition of 'discipline', silva muses. went a bit off the rails, didn't he. for a while. naughty, naughty.
his head tilts in mock curiousity. ]
No, but I suppose that's obvious.
[ glaringly. considering he'd seen fit to show himself in the first place. ]
And neither— [ he pauses, ] are you. Business? Pleasure? Both?
no subject
he can see why bond is m's favourite. all tightly coiled, like a whip, ready to snap into action at a moment's notice. those eyes. what fervor and discipline.
well, for a given definition of 'discipline', silva muses. went a bit off the rails, didn't he. for a while. naughty, naughty.
his head tilts in mock curiousity. ]
No, but I suppose that's obvious.
[ glaringly. considering he'd seen fit to show himself in the first place. ]
And neither— [ he pauses, ] are you. Business? Pleasure? Both?