Gideon grinned a little, shuffling his feet and running his hands sheepishly through his hair. "Ahh, I'm not that tall," he insisted, looking down at himself. "You're just small, but you know, in a good way." And she was, he thought to himself as he looked at her. It was weird how he hadn't really noticed how small she'd gotten compared to him, and it made a wave of protectiveness wash over him. It would be moments like this that would later give him the motivation to keep fighting through the war, and though he didn't realize it now, he would down the line.
To be quite honest, Gideon didn't mind much at all when Molly tread the line between mothering and sisterhood--after all, everyone loves the feeling of being kindly mothered, and the fact that she was his sister took away that innately teenage need to rebel against all authority. "Three hundred," he joked, the corner of his mouth lifting into a crooked smile. "Nothing less for my big sister!"
He chuckled a little at her last comment. "I don't need a broom," he said, waving his hand as if to brush the thought away. "Pumpkin pasties are way better. C'mon, sit and eat one with me, Moll," he said, one already in his hand as he flopped back onto the couch and patted the seat next to him.