He'd missed the hubbub, he rather suspected, looking at the other, vaguely familiar, man on the balcony and hearing the echoes of whatever mama he'd passed retreating in the opposite direction. Huh. Regardless, at least he hadn't interrupted anything uncouth. He hoped at any rate. "Cigarette, you?" The reflex to turn the question around was ingrained in his brain, but Em wasn't sure he actually wanted to know.

He pulled the case from the inside of his pocket anyway and offered one to the gent casually. It wasn't the best of habits, he knew, but a vice he wasn't quitting any time soon. After lighting his own and taking a drag, Emmett looked out over the London skyline, wondering if he should, in fact, find another balcony, or finish his cigarette quickly and head back in?