"Oh," Tavros spares a glance out the window, swirling his drink thougtfully in a way that was neither particularly cultured or cool. "Yeah, I guess that I can feel that. But I sort of, like the humidity."

He brings the drink to his lips thoughtfully, wondering if perhaps it'll storm. A storm wouldn't be that bad, really. Clear the air. Make everything feel new again. If he were slightly more attune to his surroundings, he may have noticed the other lingering with a sense of purpose. Instead, he just stares with glazed eyes out at the crowds.

At least, until he plays the voice back in his head.

Then he nearly drops the drink (cotton candy martini, he's pretty sure, but he's had better) and stares.

"Karkat?"