[Mathilda didn't give him any particular look - neither the shock of a girl being called out, nor the exasperation of a teenager being lectured by a guy who thought he knew any better. Instead she scanned him from head to toe, quietly evaluating him. She had to pick and choose the right words. For the right lie, that is.
It wasn't quite doing as she was told, when she walked over and sat across him. She had the nonchalance of a woman doing exactly what she'd meant to do in the first place, and perhaps that didn't sit quite as well as the notion that such a small and lanky frame already inhaled smoke into her lungs.
Clack, went the glass of milk. She dragged the chair closer to the table.]
no subject
It wasn't quite doing as she was told, when she walked over and sat across him. She had the nonchalance of a woman doing exactly what she'd meant to do in the first place, and perhaps that didn't sit quite as well as the notion that such a small and lanky frame already inhaled smoke into her lungs.
Clack, went the glass of milk. She dragged the chair closer to the table.]
I'm eighteen.