Then Sebastian smiled and said, “That outfit’s snatched today.”
Jimmy froze as if thieves lingered about in the air.
“Snatched?” he gasped, spinning round. “Is a thief out there?”
Sebastian sighed, “It means you look good. That’s all I’ll say.”
Then he checked the hall, the sink, the shadows on the floor.
Sebastian watched the ritual, worn thin, but polite.
“It’s a compliment,” he said, voice level, calm, and light.
Jimmy whispered, “See? That’s how they get you to relax before.”
Then he prowled about the room in vigilant defense.
Sebastian sat and rubbed his brow with a breath both long and clear.
“Praising someone’s outfit isn’t criminal,” he said sincere.
Jimmy nodded, gripping harder, certain of his evidence.
Sebastian grinned. “Yes. Once again, slang led you astray.”
They laughed once calm returned, Jimmy’s panic erased.
For fashion praise had struck him, facts quietly displaced,
Yet Jimmy kept the broom. “But just in case, I’ll lead the way.”