Flicking a cigarette from the crutch of his index and middle finger, the deep trail of hazelnut hues follow the arc of paper just before it hits the ground. The smoke retained itself within his lungs, exhaling slowly as he'd parted his lips to speak. "The frosted tips make you look like a discount Timberlake."
Every part of Zeno bristles in the mere presence of Chris Redfield, the clone knowing exactly how dangerous the captain of the Hound Wolf Squad was but the way 'discount' is casually thrown in really hits a nerve, causing Zeno to pull a face like Chris had just said something especially nasty. Who or what the fuck was Timberlake? Was that a place? A person? Either answer could be correct, and Redfield isn't exactly elaborating on which one it is but Zeno isn't willing to reveal how little he actually knows about the world outside of what The Connections had taught him. His mood doesn't improve when watching Redfield flick away the spent cigarette he's just finished, an act that annoys Zeno further and makes him want one too when he picks up on the scent of tobacco hanging around the man, trying not to inhale too deeply because he can smell Chris too. It's oddly familiar, despite the fact they've had next to no contact with one another on a personal level. Figures with Redfield being the one to kill his original in Albert, but did that mean he had to come out with such statements? Bad enough he got compared to Albert as often as he did just because he was the man's clone but now Redfield had the audacity to compare him to... to.... Whatever or whoever the hell this 'Timberthing' was. So Zeno does the mature thing, puffing out his chest as he glares at the other man with absolute venom in his eyes, staring back at Chris's of hazelnut through dark lenses that cannot completely hide pinpricks of gold hidden behind them and says out loud, in an almost childish fashion....
"No I fucking don't!"
