She peeks at him from between her fingers for a moment before letting her hands drop. Her blush won't be going away anytime soon, so there's not much point in trying to hide it. "Thank you," she says, shaking her head at herself. "And not even an original one, I assume." He must get some variant of that one all the time, considering how well he dresses, even at the shop. But if he's tired of it, it doesn't show. And he has such a nice smile.
The news that he was fretting over what to wear is more reassuring than it ought to be, and Greta sits up a bit straighter. "Were you?" He says 'afternoon tea' as if it means something far more specific than 'tea you happen to have in the afternoon,' and the talk of gloves is downright horrifying. Just how do they do such things where he comes from? "I should hope not," she says, aghast. If he'd been that decked out, she really would have just turned around and left.
"Well, this is..." she tugs at her sleeve, giving the fabric an assessing look, "I don't wear it terribly often, because it's a bit much for work. I think I made it last spring." She lifts her shoulders in a rueful shrug, then adds, "If I'd needed something dressier than this, we would've had to postpone things a bit."
It's a somewhat embarrassing admission, but it also feels slightly challenging, like throwing down a gauntlet. If he thinks she's the sort to dress glamorously for some specific subset of tea that apparently requires such a thing, he ought to know he's mistaken.
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The news that he was fretting over what to wear is more reassuring than it ought to be, and Greta sits up a bit straighter. "Were you?" He says 'afternoon tea' as if it means something far more specific than 'tea you happen to have in the afternoon,' and the talk of gloves is downright horrifying. Just how do they do such things where he comes from? "I should hope not," she says, aghast. If he'd been that decked out, she really would have just turned around and left.
"Well, this is..." she tugs at her sleeve, giving the fabric an assessing look, "I don't wear it terribly often, because it's a bit much for work. I think I made it last spring." She lifts her shoulders in a rueful shrug, then adds, "If I'd needed something dressier than this, we would've had to postpone things a bit."
It's a somewhat embarrassing admission, but it also feels slightly challenging, like throwing down a gauntlet. If he thinks she's the sort to dress glamorously for some specific subset of tea that apparently requires such a thing, he ought to know he's mistaken.