Indie pouted a little at him and toyed idly with a bit of his hair. "I think you're brilliant, sweetheart. Just because you're not the kind of smart that comes first to a person's mind, doesn't mean your soul isn't a genius." Because Indie didn't know anyone who could play, or write, the way he could - who came up with the most brilliant things to say without saying much at all. He was simple, and she liked that.
She noticed the bit of embarrassment and grinned, leaning in close to him and resting her cheek on his arm. She'd go for his shoulder, but there was just a bit of a height difference there.
The salesman looked between them for a moment and smirked himself, shrugging at Blues. "Well if I know free birds, they tend to shop vintage - vintage instruments have a soul of their own already, a feel right down to the wood and metal that makes them come alive in a way brand-new shiny things just don't. And if I know this girl like I think I do, she's been playing her brother's hand-me-down acoustic since she was twelve because she's too attached to it to get another. So maybe... if you picked it out for her, she might finally shelve that thing that's almost too small for her."
Next to Blues, Indie blushed and hid her face against the side of the other god's arm. It was true. But she couldn't believe that some guy (some guy she'd been around for a year or better, but still) actually remembered something she said to him months ago.