Re: Eddie's House: May / Eddie
May didn't have any aversion to the wrought iron of the outdoor furniture (that sensitivity belonged to the fae folk, not to witches), nothing past the fact that the wrong twist of metal could sometimes poke in an unyielding, uncomfortable way. Eddie's chairs weren't too bad, enough to be comfortable for the moment, at least. With a seat and some tea, she was content enough to relax there and wait for some of Eddie's nerves to settle again.
He eyebrows started to inch up at Eddie's analysis of the types of people in the world, and by the time he reached three, a smile was infecting the edges of her expression. Deadpan: "And you're so certain that I'm a two? You're sure?" It was a tease, but almost severe. Like she could have been angry about it. (She wasn't.)
"Definitely try harder." Her eyes were bright with the words. Alright, so she hadn't had anything exactly like it. Close, but not quite. But she was admittedly interested in what Eddie might come up with if she presented him with a challenge. Even in the form of tea.