[He dislikes the fact that despite her offer and explanation, despite his own intuition telling him that this seemingly insignificant strap of leather is, indeed, anything but, there is some part of him that feels it would be something akin to showing weakness to agree to keep it, as if somehow doing so would be some great threat to him personally.

He studies the item in her hand for a few moments longer, glancing up just long enough to catch that smile of hers, and a muscle in his jaw tics as he clenches it before reaching out to take the necklace back, closing his fingers around it, letting them linger against the palm of her hand for, perhaps, half a breath too long.]

I'll keep it.

[Rather than shoving it back into his pouch, he tucks it into his vest for safekeeping, hidden from sight.]

It may turn out to be a helpful clue yet.

[There is something about his voice in that moment that rings hollow, however— despite his efforts, there is a wrinkle in the otherwise silky tenor, because the why is not as much of a mystery to him as he would like to pretend.]

Evidence, perhaps, that despite my thieving ways, you might have chosen to count a pirate among your friends.