[Kieren ignores Credence's comment; really, if he wore short sleeves, and his wrist wounds showed--people would look at him strangely, and he would understand why. He would rather them look at him for his pallor and dressing wrong for the weather than question the wrist injuries.

He's glad for Credence's arms around his waist, a faint solid feeling, even if he can't completely lock in the sensation.]

I don't know--sit around, talk? Look at all the people? It's one of my favorite things to do, you know. People watch. [Given he's an artist, and likes to paint portraits--is it much of a surprise?

Still, he smiles when Credence decides to go get some food, grinning a bit wider when he comes back.]

I always enjoyed colder weather too. It's never really not gloomy where I live, but at least there was a reason for it, instead of it being summer and it being just foggy on the moors.

[He reached out, brushing the icing off Credence's nose with his thumb, and immediately licked it off his finger without thinking.

A few beats later his brow furrowed, and he grabbed a napkin, spitting the small bit of dissolved sugar into it.]

...Habit. Sometimes I forget I can't eat anything.

[Except he never really had before. Still, changing the subject, he sees a low couch open, near a corner.]

Want to go sit down over there?