Truth or not, Freddie's strangely relieved by the response. Some of the tension eases from his shoulders and he lets out a breath, lips twitching into a small, hopeful (and perhaps slightly uncertain) grin.

"D'pends," he says, cocking his head as he hikes the strap of his bag higher up on his shoulder, his gaze dropping to the cigarette Philip's still toying with. "Share your fag?"

Freddie's not really much of a smoker, honestly. Not outside of a bit of weed, that is. But he's found he indulges a bit more often in things he wouldn't ordinarily when he's around Philip. For better or for worse. It's likely someone else might judge him for such a thing, but it's not a though he's told anyone about Philip. Not really. What would he even say?