"Nah, princess. Don't even look at me, yeah?" He said immediately upon catching your curious side glance.

"Scram, ain't interested in cheery gals like ya'." He clicked his tongue, throwing a cigarette down after a last puff, stomping on it lightly, perhaps in courtesy to you and your lungs.

By pretty gal, he meant innocent, uncorrupted women. Full of untouched love, care, and capable of healing shitty people like him, and he didn't like that, not one bit.

...Or so he claims.