Weston didnâ€™t really blame Jasmine for telling him more than what she had wanted to originally. There have been plenty of times where he has done just that. Sometimes things kept locked inside for too long needed to come out, it didnâ€™t hurt to vent once in awhile. He had his best friend and partner he vented to, poor guy was probably one of the only people stupid enough to put up with him, but at times it was better to vent to a stranger. Admittedly her story had dampened his mood further He didnâ€™t show it much but if anyone was good at reading facial expressions they could tell by the look in his eyes that he showed a little sympathy. Hell if he was all set up to be the prince of a kingdom and then betrayed by some evil princess and shoved in a bottle heâ€™d be pissed.<br/><br/>â€œThereâ€™s no need to thank me, I just like being generous,â€ He had replied in a casual tone that oddly reassured said generosity. His half hearted smile had turned into a smile that was very warm, kind. There was a bit of sympathy in his voice but he dared not say anything about her watching her kingdom being destroyed. She seemed upset enough; she didnâ€™t need him making it worse. â€œOh and thereâ€™s no need â€˜masterâ€™, but I wonâ€™t stop you if you decide to keep doing it.â€ He added with a chuckle as he took a seat in the living room.  There really was something about being called â€˜masterâ€™ that made his not so subtle ego jump in delight. Sinking back against the couch he took in a deep breath to relax. Prior to his leisurely stroll around the city he had been faced with a pretty rough day.<br/><br/>A soft sigh touched his lips, followed by a puff of smoke. It felt nice to relax. This had been such a rough week he had almost forgotten what the word meant.<br/><br/>Weston stared absently at the wall where a picture of some open field resided. The woman who gave him the painting had told him what it was called, but he didnâ€™t remember now. â€œI wish I got to relax like this more.â€ The words seemed to leave his mouth before he knew it but he didnâ€™t take it back. Part of what he had said was true, no matter how small it seemed. He really was tired; there was a chance he might go to bed early tonight. Which made him think about Jasmine and where she would sleep since he did not want to throw her back in that bottle. Did genies even sleep at all? If she has been locked in that bottle surely she would sleep here and there to get lost in her dreams? He contemplated asking but then pushed the thought out of his mind.<br/><br/>â€œWhy donâ€™t you come and sit down?â€ He asked, tilting his head to the side a bit. â€œCome make yourself at home, I donâ€™t bite.â€ Enthusiastically he patted a space on the couch beside him. There had been a small smirk on his expression which was short lived much to his relief. He was doing it again it seems, ever the ladies man.