She giggled and tucked her hair behind her ear, smirking up at him. "Well I suppose," she answered, "if you're gentle. I'd probably let you get away with almost anything as long as you're not too mean about it."
She listened to him ramble about her being a child or not with a smirk plastered on her face. "I know what you mean. Everyone sees me as a child because that's just the way I look. But it's because of the scene, what it's made me. The careful line between looking a certain way and the topics we explore being thoughtful and a lot deeper than expected. Makes for a weird sort of thing. I have moments where my own childishness surprises me and then I remember that I am still a baby to a lot of people. But that doesn't mean I can or should be overlooked or treated like a child. I do have a brain and I do use it well," she explained. "So what my 'real' age is... I don't know. Sometimes it's sixteen, sometimes it's twenty-two. But I've met some very mature sixteen year olds and some very immature people who are a few hundred years old, so it's all subjective. What matters is that I'm old enough to know what right and wrong is. I was born with that knowledge. And I'm old enough to know what I want. And I happen to want you tonight."
She followed along, holding on to his arm and watching around them with a casual and curious look on her face. She was just taking it all in, like she did with everything. Always extremely aware. "Eighth is just fine. I'm sure every room in this place is better than what I'm used to - which is, you know, to say that I did spend a year hitchhiking this way from Vegas with a lot of stops in between. So this is all pretty posh. Did I ever tell you I was born in an old acid pad?" she offered with a grin. "That's where I lived, in Wales, for a few years. Ridiculous amount of fun..."