Tracey arched a brow. "Well, I can't object to that. We all like to bother our mothers." She let him guide her down to the seat. When he removed her shoes, she lifted one of her legs to his shoulder, watching him closely. "So, you think you'll get flying motorcycle?" She had to admit, she liked those. She like flying as well, but she hardly did it. Her mother didn't approve, and her father was too concerned about her getting hurt. They all treated her like something she wasn't; a delicate flower.
A moment later, she shifted in the chair, removing her red and gold flowered ring from her finger. She noted recently, they were talking a bit more than they usually did. She wasn't hexing him quiet, anymore, that was certain.