There was a lull in the conversation as Abel processed just what she was asking for. Small details? He could handle that. Personal bits? That would have to be pried out of him with a crowbar. Yet, the way she spoke to him probably didn't provoke the kind of reaction she expected. Rather, he relaxed quite a bit with a lopsided smile creeping up on his face which only grew more until finally a chuckle escaped him.

"By the gods," he let the laugh die but the smile remained, "I thought this conversation was going to go differently."

Not even Sloane had heard Abel say so many words consecutively much less hear a laugh out of him. The centaur behind the counter waved his hands at Alison, beckoning her to keep cracking the shell. It wasn't an impossible task, people just didn't know where to tap to start the fissures.

Starting to relax Abel picked up his drink, taking a sip of it before he went on. [i]Maybe they were right, no one would remember me at all.[/i]

"The want to get to know someone does get personal, to a degree," Abel scratched at the scar on his face, done out of subconscious need than an actual irritant, "But I think I could oblige a few things. My favorite color is turqoise, my favorite drink is rum chata, and I have a calico cat named Felicity. She's old, fat, and a cuddle bug."

The details he was giving her didn't matter, they were pointless tidbits that didn't define who he actually was. Unless something really spoke to her about him having a cat, but he doubted it. WIth a rub to the back of his neck his smile turned sheepish, "Sorry about the comment earlier. Usually when people talk to me they're either telling me off or asking me what I want so I can get out of their hair faster."

It was then he realized he was all out of... Well he couldn't remember what he ordered, but it was gone so he had nothing to fiddle with now. The facade of confidence would fade soon if he didn't do something.

"I'll exchange a secret of mine for a secret of yours though," he said, flipping to the last page of his journal. Tipping it to where she couldn't see what he was writing he posed his question, "What is your deepest darkest fear?"

The pen was clicked, meeting the page as he wrote out something. It was six little words afterward he ripped the page out, folding it quickly into a little triangle with the end tucked in. If she answered him, even with a lie, he'd push it towards her to take. All the while, if and when she read it he'd simply just watch for her reaction.

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[i]I'm a criminal without a crime.[/i]
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