Yes, Oz had a bad habit of being a flirt. He had been being accused of that ever since he had discovered that girls were pretty and interesting instead of covered in cooties. "No one wears a bruised face well and that's right about at chest level where you'd have ended up. Cannot bruise the pretty." It was impossible. It was completely impossible for him to just talk with a girl who was the right age without his mouth going and getting into things like that. If Eva walked around the corner right then then he would feel awful. And Dagmar would somehow find out about it and mock him into the next lifetime.
She was still cute. Although he really could not place her scent for the life of him and it was almost starting to bother him.
"Well duh, why else would I talk to you? Totally isn't because I'm a nice guy who thinks it's a good idea to say hey to the person who just almost walked into him." Old ladies could be so weird when it came to the things that they talked about. Just the other day there had been a few in the shop who were carrying on about whether or not the weather had moments of awfulness because of the elementals. "Harlots don't hide in shadows; they stand under street lights and go 'look at me!' or whatever." He had seen movies... were harlots the same thing as prostitutes? He was going to have to find a way to ask someone that question later without making it seem like he had an actual reason to. "Yep, I can. They're still on the topic of you, though they've let go of me. You seem to have a neon sign pointing at you declaring 'judge me!' to their eyes."