"Put off, huh? Ah, they're probably just jealous," Zidane dismissed with a laugh and a more than slightly playful grin, tail swaying with his amusement as he gestured in the general direction of the waterfront properties of Treno. "Some things money just can't buy, y'know? Bet you the nobles don't like being reminded of that."
And by that, Zidane of course meant Fran's natural, god-given beauty. Zidane still couldn't quite get over the sheer--
Was there another word for it?
--statuesque nature of her body. It was taking everything he had in him not to stare, because that was rude and off-putting and Zidane was trying to put being a hormonal teenager behind him. (That was working out so well, of course. He could swear off thieving next.)
"It's all good though. If you think you'll be okay stomaching it, I'm pretty good with the barkeep in the slums. He'll be happy for the business," Zidane offered. Though by 'happy' he meant 'slightly less rude than usual', but that was just how the 'keep was. It was charming in its own, uh, comforts-of-home sort of way. To Zidane, at any rate.
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And by that, Zidane of course meant Fran's natural, god-given beauty. Zidane still couldn't quite get over the sheer--
Was there another word for it?
--statuesque nature of her body. It was taking everything he had in him not to stare, because that was rude and off-putting and Zidane was trying to put being a hormonal teenager behind him. (That was working out so well, of course. He could swear off thieving next.)
"It's all good though. If you think you'll be okay stomaching it, I'm pretty good with the barkeep in the slums. He'll be happy for the business," Zidane offered. Though by 'happy' he meant 'slightly less rude than usual', but that was just how the 'keep was. It was charming in its own, uh, comforts-of-home sort of way. To Zidane, at any rate.