"Not at all; thou art by far better company." Finishing off his own water, Laertes raises his eyes from Enjolras's hands to his face. It strikes him anew, what a fine face it is--the lines of it speak to purpose more than pleasure, but there's ease in it now that Laertes fancies was not there when the two of them met in the library. "Hast decided whether thou wouldst have me?" he asks, and he finds he cannot make it sound light.