"I just touched one," he insisted innocently, still trying to keep them all together but failing miserably. Juggling was not a skill he had in his repertoire.
Her warning against the trinkets seemingly attaching themselves to him with prolonged exposure caused Rex to immediately remove his hands from the vicinity and even take a step back. Now all he could think about was a bunch of magically charged objects disliking him just as much as he disliked them by association. Surely, something to haunt his nightmares at some point.
"Always," Rex replied with a charming smirk, resting his hands on his belt so he didn't get the urge to touch anything else.
Although he never had to visit Addison's shop on official business — he would dread the day he actually needed to. Granted, every once in a blue moon a little old lady got offended by the shop and called to make a complaint, but he always brushed it off as the complaint originated from the same woman who insisted the fire hydrants were being moved and that's why she always parked by one. "Gearing up for Fete? I'd offer to help somehow, but clearly I'll just end up leaving a trail of angry broken things," he drawled quietly.