He's sitting quietly, smiling in a faint, elegant sort of way into the pages of a book. His fingers, pale and graceful, turn the pages once.
Twice.
His focus is utterly upon the text as a mysterious twist of his lips curls and uncurls, his figure a portrait of refinement and poise.
Then he snorts.
"Oh please. Poor dork."...a complicated
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"Is it really so engrossing?"
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"I played the part of Amintor in this play a rather long time ago," he says with a fond smile at the play. "Have you read 'The Maid's Tragedy'?"
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"Not for some time."
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