Momentarily stunned and feeling like he's on the back foot, his mouth thins into a small line, and he resolutely ignores the warmth blooming on his cheeks. Self conscious -- or is it suspicious?-- he flicks his eyes briefly down to his outfit again, wondering what she saw that could make her react like that. Afterwards, his gaze lands right back on her face and Jax just kind of stares at her like she’s stupid, taken aback at being cut off so abruptly from his frankly hilarious dig, and uses the pause to cleverly disguise the fact that he feels stupid for not immediately picking up on what she was putting down.
Oh. She wants to have some fun with this.
. . . That's the only explanation, right? Because it can't be anything else.
If there’s one thing the rabbit isn’t afraid to commit to, however, it’s a bit. Ribbit has become his partner in crime for a reason, after all. Just as quickly as his gaze narrowed due to her interruption, his expression smooths out, all casual and careless like he knew what he was doing all along.
With his best approximation of a charming grin, he takes her hand and pulls it gently across the table, yellow gaze locked onto hers as he brings her knuckles to his non lips for a soft kiss. Playing the part. “That’s because I didn’t give it to you, sweetheart.” He murmurs smoothly against her skin, and inwardly cringing at himself before letting her go. Then, Jax leans his elbows against the table, chin resting on his hands with a devious glint in his eye and his lashes batting. “But, just so you know what to scream later— it’s Jax.” Right back to not taking anything, including himself, too seriously.
If he thinks too hard about any of this, he might realize she wasn’t alone in her initial reaction to him. Under this lighting, with only candlelight between them, she looks soft in a way she doesn’t let herself usually be, and that outfit looks like something she would wear outside of the digital hell they’re both trapped in. She looks comfortable, for a change, and it's. . . It’s nice.
It makes his palms sweat, and he buries that realization in a box in the back of his mind before it can fester any further. "Sooo. . .” He starts again, aiming for casual. “—come here often?" Let the record show, Jax has never admitted to actually being smooth, or to knowing what he's doing when it comes to dating. He doesn't. Man, it's a good thing none of this is REAL, anyways.
