James was still taking this disturbingly well. Eliot would be more worried, but hey. It could've been worse. He could've been dealing with someone more like himself.

He lifted his hand again, this time directed toward James, and the tip of his cigarette glowed. That done, Eliot settled his grip on James' upper arm, giving it a little squeeze.

"My condolences." That was an appropriate enough thing to say, right? Eliot lowered his hand, and his fingertips lingered against James' sleeve a half-second longer than necessary. The flirting was no longer top priority in this conversation, but he was still giving it a go.

He turned away, regarding the lights of the carnival. "On the upside, we have Skee Ball."