Armed with a bittersweet drawing in of both carnation pink lips as if she could steal the introduction back by swallowing it like a prison key, she clamped down on their plump with her teeth momentarily like windowpane trapping in the sorcery of poison. Barricading it, instead of trapping it out. She was saving him from her bite, not her bark. She wanted to ask why that specific cemetery stun from Mr. Glasses had occurred. Really, that's your name?
But she knew she was only being cranky, released her lips with an unintentionally audible pop, and let it go.
"Of course none of the information will say it's haunted... who would wanna move into a haunted place?" said she, and this time when she grinned it was laced with mischief and humor. Was he afraid of ghosts? Demons? Oh, she had stories about this place. The livid pools of her eyes gleamed and thinned to look at him narrowly, studying him as she stood there gravely still as if fearing phantoms was an observable quality. Would it be hiding somewhere in his eyelashes? Maybe on his neck. "Will you mind them? The ghosts?"