"Pretty sure," she snarks back with a raise of an eyebrow, a slight shake of her head as she looks at him, hint of amusement to hide how this moment feels strange, an awkward static on her skin.

"Because I don't already?" Same roguish gypsy smile, just on fuller lips. Her eyes follow his hair, how it moves loose, and she kind of likes it like that, not that she'd ever tell him as much.

She take the cigarette, color-tipped fingers curling around the filter and moving to bring it to her lips. She pauses, a tilt of her chin and a quizzical look. "Trying to do something like what?" And then the cigarette is between her lips, and she's hoping Roman has a light because Peter definitely doesn't have a lighter in that miniskirt.