Higgs/Eleanor
"I think it was more that they wanted to appear perfect. My mother was a politician and women in politics who aren't portraying the ideal image of a wife and mother while juggling the demands of campagians just don't make the cut. Particularly in America," she explained, realizing she was going into too much depth for what he said but finding it hard to close her mouth for once. The little flirtation surprised her and she gave him a wry grin. "I'm glad you've noticed," she replied with what appeared to be ease even if it was hardly easy.
"On which few hairs that you are actually growing," she said teasingly, wanting to reach out and fluff his mohawk-thing but too nervous to actually initiate touching him. "I've been told that I never resembled a child, I suppose it's already gone for me. Even if not in your eyes." Dammit she was being too serious. Again.
Eleanor laughed, covering her face with one hand. "Knowing foul language and putting it in use are vastly different disciplines," she pointed out. She could practically hear her mother turning over in her grave. A light blush found her cheeks again as she shook her head 'no' despite the fact she was obviously lying. "You flex as often as possible, it's hard to miss," she teased instead.