“So.” Eva stared at the boy over her orange juice for a moment. “Pancakes, little kid thing?”
“Are they in the shapes of dinosaurs?”
She smirked. “I only do that for kids that are still shorter than my knees. They’re safe, normal round things.”
“Will they turn me into a frog?”
“I don’t know anything that can do that, legends aside… so probably not.”
“Then I guess I’m probably not too old for pancakes.” Was he flirting with her?
“Good,” she answered while she tried to figure that one out. “Because they taste horrible the second day and there’s way too many for me to eat on my own right now.” She passed him a plate and a glass of orange juice. “So. You thought I was a witch?”
“You still haven’t said if you are or not. And sometimes your family says stuff, you know.”
“I’m sure they do; everyone’s family says stuff. I just have a really big family.”
“Mmn.” He stuffed his mouth full of pancakes for a minute, eating like every teenage boy she’d ever seen, as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
When she thought he might be able to breathe again, she added, “what sort of stuff, in this case?”
“Hunh? Oh, your family. Just… ‘Aunt Asta died, Aunt Eva’s The Aunt now.'” He dropped the caps in melodramatically. “If you don’t get a boyfriend, Beryl, you’re going to end up The Next Aunt.” He shook his head. “Like it’s a thing.”
“For us, it kind of is,” she admitted, gambling on honesty. “Sometimes we have more than one in a generation, but yeah.”
“So you really are a witch?” He looked down at the pancakes thoughtfully. “At least they’re not gingerbread.”
“You’re not running screaming in terror?”
He grinned at her, another one of those expressions she was pretty sure made Beryl go “:X” “I could feel it, you know? In my toes. I was just waiting for you to decide to tell me.”
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/304427.html. You can comment here or there.