His first reaction is to stare at what could possibly be the answer to what he was asking, or an answer to something he wasn’t even trying to ask. His eyes fall into a squint without a word to be traced before he let out a small sigh, rather in confusion than in annoyance. “China?” He repeated after the other, without thinking too much of it before his attention falls to the words ‘enemy’ and ‘blood.’ He can’t help but let out a curt, breathy laugh. “That’s not exactly a great way to be explaining the color red….” He begins, rubbing his chin in thought of the color.
Still, as curiosity hits him, he has to question, “Are you some sort of a communist?” He snorts at the idea, but would still have to respect whether or not the question holds true. It might all add up, it might not. He could just be falling in deeper in this hole of confusion before ever coming into a consensus with his own thoughts. “Or are you just trying to say bright red?” He continues, a grin still etched on his features. “I still want the hat, but you’re probably just going to scam me again.” He sighs, reaching up to rub his temples to distract him from his previous fall out in his almost scam.
“I’ll admit this gets harder the longer I keep talking.” He rests his hands on his hips and ducks his head in feigned exhaustion, sags his shoulders in defeat. “Do you realize how difficult it is to maintain a lie like that? It keeps going and going, and then you start to forget things…”
He trails off, raises his head again and presses, “–not that I’m lying. I didn’t say that. I just meant, in the case of a lie. Which I am not. Lying, I mean.” He pauses to mull over the question, lilts and tilts his head from left to right before producing what he would call an adequate reply, “I don’t think I have enough stamina to be a communist. I wish I did. I get tired too easily. It wouldn’t work out for me.”
