[ He can't help the fact that she gets him hard. The implications borne by each of her actions, by every syllable that passes her lips or every bat of her eyelashes — every moment that he can't touch her is one more where he's strung along (she's cruel — cruel but kind) and just a little bit more pleasure, he's sure, when there's nothing in the way of them being together. (That's how it's supposed to be.) He doesn't let his gaze linger on her and, to her credit, doesn't seem particularly off one way or another when he smiles and shifts his weight. ]

Not so much anymore, y' know, what with digital an' all tha', but yeah, I t'ink I've seen my fair share.

[ He pauses, the line of his mouth twisting for an instant before he offers: ] Y' ever get tired of checkin' groceries, I could pro'ly set y'up wit' a little work. Not a lot, mind, but y' might see somethin' for y'self.