eliot-isayev:
¯_(ツ)_/¯
Eliot just maintains his ‘I’ve done nothing wrong ever in my entire life’ sheepish smile. “_Accidental _vandalism,” he emphasizes, “I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear. Scout’s honor.” He folds his thumb and pinkie, and keeps the three fingers up to make the hand sign, although he’s never been in any scout whatsoever. “On a speed dial, huh. Well, thanks for the offer but I’m totally fine. I’ve definitely breathed in worse things than trash smoke before and I turned out alright.” He gives her thumb-ups with his both hands, grinning. He is quite durable, doesn’t get sick often (or at least he doesn’t notice it unless it’s really bad) and recovers quickly, so he isn’t that worried. “Well, if I’m calling you Lenny, you can call me El or Elie.” He suggests in return, fitting himself through the narrow aisle of the shop. He grabs a bottle of water for her and an orange juice for himself. “It is huge, and I’ve gotten lost several times.” He chokes on air and coughs when she straight-up asks him if he is a witch, almost drops the drinks. “I… did not expect you to shoot straight like that. I could’ve just had really shitty luck with fire or been a pyro.” He says, clearing his throat. “Uh, yeah, I guess I am a witch. Kinda shitty one at that. Don’t even know what a phoenix is, and I don’t think you’re talkin’ about that bird from Harry Potter… So you, uh, one of the magical people or something too?”
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Lennox nudged the taller boy a little bit. She was kind of in awe at how short she was compared to him. She knew she was short, it was one thing her and Noa liked to joke about but he seemed to be much taller then her. "I’m a little curious as to what exactly you have breathed in that was more toxic then garbage smoke,” the blonde shook her head and turned on her heels, them clacking against the pavement. “I like El, it sounds so formal and adorable, just like you,” she chimed biting at her bottom lip. She was always trying to find some sort of nickname for her friends but most of them just ended up being sort forms of their names. “Honestly I could tell you’re not a pyro which is good because I don’t think I know how to talk my way out of you doing that again and pyros usually set things on fire on purpose,” she raised her eyebrows, “Well I guess you’re lucky that I know a pretty good witch too, god no not Harry Potter but it’s more complicated then that but I don’t think it matters now that I know you’re a witch, and of course I am. I swear if you didn’t say you were a witch right now, I’d be in so much trouble.”














