[isaac stops chewing for a moment once the inevitable question slips from her mouth. he presses his lips together for a moment, reaching for his orange juice to wash the bacon down. his brows furrow into a crooked line -- one partially up, one tilted downward -- as he frowns.]
no subject
One. You should practice with-- you know.
[he shrugs innocently, staring down at the file.]
Open it already.