Audrey/Oliver (and Percy, maybe?)
'Oh, aye no doubt,' he retorted, casually. 'But nae the head you're thinking of.'
Shifting, Oliver swung his good leg over the side of the lawn chair, dragging his other with the shove of a hand until both feet were in the grass. His right leg was exhausted, sore from toe to hip, but he wasn't about to let it defeat him today. Not when there were still guests at his house and light in the sky.
Now properly facing Audrey, Oliver grinned at her in greeting, pleased to see her at the gathering. He knew she was busy, and suspected she was tired too, keeping baker's hours but somehow she managed to keep herself completely together. How women did that was a mystery.
'You look very nice,' he complimented, still eyeing her safely from the confines of his glasses. 'Can I get you something to drink? Or a plate of pancakes?' Typically Oliver would not have a problem in first obliging the lass to see his tits but it was difficult enough to admit to the anonymous faces in the crowd that he needed a crutch to stand, let alone put his terrible scars on display. Most of which were still healing, pink and tender. So a distraction of food and drink it was.