He huffed and tugged at thier innertwined hands. “Because whyyy?” he whined.
“Mhh, because I’m not a pet?” Cyn rose her eyebrows.
“Of course not,” he said.
“Or food. Pfft, honey. Or a little kid. Baby. Or sweet, I’m just relatively sugary,” she pouted.
The last one made him laugh out loud.
“I like your laugh,” she said, surprisingly herself by how honest this new relationship was turning out to be.
“How much green yah got?” she asked, when the sound turned to silence.
“Mmh,” he let go of her to rummage through his pockets and pulled out one very rusty penny. “Brownish red?” he asked and held out his findings in offering.
Cyn took his greedily.
“Man, are you a musician?” she asked, reffering to his lack of money.
“No,” he said simply, linking his pinky with hers.
“Artist?” Cyn was intrigued.
A sudden gust of wind blew the mop of hair out of Nix’s eyes and she saw they were greenish blue. Like moss and water and mystery.
“No,” he dropped her hand again, almost angry “I’m a human being.”