“You’ll forgive me if I’m not inclined to trust the word of Tony Stark, self-confessed playboy,” she shot back. “Not much for being closed in, hm?” There were windows all around, and not much by way of space division aside from furniture.
“I’d hope that you’d trust me at least a little bit…,” he glanced down to his drink while swirling the ice around. “But I guess I really can’t blame you,” he shrugged and looked back to her before looking around the room again as she commented. “I hate being closed in. I prefer to be able to see the open sky.”
Her eyebrows did a little lift-and-lower dance of confusion. “I’m sorry, are we back to the heavy stuff? Yes, alright, I was being sarcastic; I can look into your heart so of course I trust you.” She rolled her eyes at him and turned around. Sotto voce, she added, “It’s not like you’re actually going to be interested in me anyway. Not that way.”