"Penny for your thoughts?"
Azalea quipped with a smirk tilting up her lips, leaning against a door frame as those storm-colored eyes watched him carefully. "It was your face, you know...all screwed up, it could only mean one of two things: You were vaguely constipated, or you were thinking really hard." The normal malice didn't seem to be there now, a strange...playfulness, was it...lingering tentatively in its place.












