Laurel certainly had charmed the pixie street urchin, leaving her inwardly mesmerized and drawn forwards, like with threads tied around her ribcage, linked to his hand now. It was the same peculiar and stirring draw that she had felt only a handful of times in her life, when puzzle pieces began falling into place and revealed a promise for something bigger, better, more to come. Inwardly, she knew that she would take him up on his offers, despite her feet feeling stubbornly rooted to the broken concrete floor of this city. But she only smiled coyly, casually, and gave him a nod before responding to his request.
One dark hand fished out a packet of guitar strings from inside of the counter she sat on, before she kicked her legs up over to the other side and slid off next to Laurel with a flash of the pearly whites. "Here you are, sir," she said with a quick bounce of her chin and the strings offered. "It was a pleasure doing business with you. Do come again." Always a play, a giggle, a game, she curtsied with one hand and took several rhythmic steps away, towards the light of the open door, pausing briefly there. "Then again, I am your stalker," she said thoughtfully, as if suddenly remembering. "So maybe I'll just burst in on you at an inopportune time again. Steal some other piece of your clothing for real." She turned back to him with a devilishly impish grin then, and lazily strolled back into the street.
