Angel Dust

That flash of gold makes Anthony's own smile grow a little less shy than before, and he drinks in that accent, wondering if he can find out what these names Val has for him are with enough time, but knowing he likes them even without knowing. What names might he have for Valentino if he were allowed?

The warmth of that arm is probably too brief to really be felt, but Anthony imagines being able to freely nestle into the other man's side as they drove. As it is he's closer than he needs to be, knees angled towards Val without real conscious planning or thought. But on drives with his father he's all but glued to the side of the door.

He doesn't need a light. But- "Please," falls free from his lips before he has time to think why exactly he's bothering to lie. Maybe he's all ready developing a soft spot for Valentino pampering him, looking out for him the way that's usually reserved for a lady or someone a hell of a lot more important than Anthony.

He fishes his own cigarette case out, and extends it out for Val to take one if he wants, those nerves a little less evident now that they're not under his father's roof.