Re: Kit & Noah: the B&B
The house made him think on the places growing up. He hadn't seen the insides of any of those places but he'd looked on the outside, money sat there in the swelter of summer heat, plain as it could get. Kit then had been willing to bet five bucks that nobody lived inside with as big a family as those crammed in to the places on his street. The B&B looked like old money, but the man behind the counter didn't. Kit's smile was shy under the thick thatch of dark hair; his gaze whisked over Noah's face, flitted down to the desk and back up again. Old wood and heavy rugs over floorboards. He could feel the texture difference through the soles of his shoes.
"Kit. This is quite the house." His voice was odd but he couldn't help that. It had faint traces of slow vowels from childhood layered under a British education system that frowned on any sort of accent, like old paint.