It could be considered almost comical the expression that slipped onto his features (an expression that stated his befuddlement). As though he weren’t exactly sure of the implication, he inclined his head every which way, placed his hands on his hips as he decided that what the other had said was meant to be some kind of pun.

“Is this a joke about me wearing all white? I didn’t like anything else in my closet.” He frowns down at his attire and picks at stray lint on the arm of his (very white) sweater– (much like the rest of what he was wearing which were, in fact, varying hues of the colour).

“I look like I’m about to be the best man at someone’s wedding. Maybe even the groom. Who am I marrying? I don’t even know. That’s so sad.”