Re: [Outside Secondhand Books & Cafe: Misha & Sadie]
Normally, sure as honey was sweet, Sadie would have jumped on that bag of sweets the second it hit the table. It'd been said she had sweet teeth and it wasn't wrong. Grandma had always joked it was where she got that sunny disposition from. None of it was wrong and she sure did have a love for anything sugary.
However, if there was something she liked more than sugar, it was moments like these. Here he was, telling her a story, and Sadie was hanging on every word with an interest every kind of genuine. Not just was it a good one, but to be talking like this with someone again? To sit like she was a real normal girl and there was nothing about her to fuss over? It was just about the best thing there was. It was better than the cocoa, or even the chance to go see the Carnival. Heck, it was the thing she'd been starvin' for more than she knew, right up until Misha had given it to her.
"That's a good one." She mused, humming thoughtfully while she tried to think of one of her own and keep his story fresh at the same time. "I done that one before, playin' a church. Oof." She cringed, though that wasn't the story she intended to tell, it seemed fair. Plus, considering the person who gave her the job was in both stories, it was a good segue.
"So, once upon a time, 'cause that's how all good stories start yanno, I was a small thing. Fresh to playin' the fiddle for anybody who might'a wanted to hear it. 'Fore that it was just torturin' my Pa' while Mum smiled and told me to keep tryin'. -- S'why I bloody hate Paganini." It was something she didn't normally share, even if she had the chance. "Was tryin' to learn this darn song when I was but a pup with the bow, and played it awful-like I did. But I play it all the time right?" She was laughing at herself by the bridge in the story, shaking her head at how absurd it is.
"Well I get this job playin' a Contra see, and my hands are just rubbish. I'd been playin' so much and forgtettin' to tend 'em proper, and pay for it I did. Couldn't play nothin'. Preacher lets me off all kind like, as a man-of-the-cloth would I expect and --" She chuckled a bit waving a hand in front of her face and trying not to break into a giggle. She hadn't thought about this memory in a long time. " -- and o'course that's when his daughter, this real Bonne maid, you know? She decides she wants to finally buck up the nerve an ask me to dance. Wouldn't ya know it, been sweet on her for ages and she asks me on a night where they ain't nothin' I can do."
She finally paused and took a sip of the drink. "Got me learnin' a proper jig though, it did. Added Belly-dance later on after that." She looked up at Misha.
"I don't s'pose you'd wanna share another hm? Been awhile since I've had nice folk to trade stories with, and it's nice to not be doin' it round a fire for a change too." A nervous hitch for a second and quickly was blurted "If'n I'm not keepin' you that is."