He shrugs with a grin, trying to stay modest. There was something about Zara that kept him on his best behavior– maybe it was her history with his brother (and the way that he fucked her over), or the way that she’s literally one of the purest and kindest people he’s ever met, but bragging about his escapades in New York in front of her wasn’t really something he wanted to do. “They’re a different crowd from ‘round here, that’s for sure. They appreciate my accent a lot more than you lot,” he teases, and shakes his head. “That’s a lie and you know it, every one of their middle names is ‘little shit’.” He’s helpless to the chuckle that escapes him once she finally realizes the state of her shirt, and he shakes his head again, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it, Z, I was just here pickin’ up some takeout for the Rugrats. Figured they could use something other than leftovers for once.”
“Maybe you should take me with you next time!” Suddenly, excitement filled her features. “Oh, do you go to Times Square? Do you see plays?” Zara was practically bouncing up and down, which, in her current state, wasn’t the best idea. Smacking at his chest, she let out a sweet laugh. “Stop it, Hud! They are not...that. They’re sweet. I’ve taught them some good manners while you’ve been gone bein’ fancy and big city.” She attempted to keep the towel over her chest while getting her notepad out to write an order. “Come on, it’s on the house. No biggie, babes.” With a smile, she began to write. “Ophelia likes the onion rings, yeah?” Zara began to scrawl, getting frustrated and merely dropping the towel. “What do you want? Are you going to try and get anything for El?”
