Kevin's a little too self absorbed at the moment to read anyone else's face. Plus, the no gloves thing is still bothering him.

"I found a better way." Rather than stealing, he sold his art. Sometimes. Most of the time, he goes hungry, but that's okay too. He'd rather do that than steal. He can't get past that core morality.

"Where are the gloves?" He pushes himself off the window for the first time in the conversation and takes a step away from it. He tends to slouch, and tucking his hands deeper in his pockets makes it even more pronounced. Singed ends of his bangs flop into his eyes and he just watches her, not approaching, but at least not retreating any more.