"Nevva, can you braid?"
What a strange question. I put my book down and gave Saint Dane a curious look. "You mean like hair?" He nodded. "Yes, I used to braid my hair a lot when I was young."
He smiled a little at that and rested a hand on my shoulder. "You still are, I'd enjoy that if I were you.."
I laughed, much to his confusion. "You say that like you're older than God or something!"
"Maybe I am."
"Are you?" I raised a brow and gave him the most intense stare I could muster.
He broke the silence with a false frown. "Hasn't anyone taught you it's rude to ask people their age?"
"It's rude to ask women.."
His expression told me exactly what he thought of that, and I couldn't help grinning up at him cheekily.
He knew I was just kidding.
"So, what did you want?"
"I want you to braid my hair."
Just kidding indeed.