Tal just grin and stuck his now-healed tongue out at her - and the distraction might have contributed to the mess of the sugar but ehhhh, they'd clean it up later.
Or at least, someone would.
He absolutely slipped his grip on the bowl a little as she bumped him, because he flinched and looked almost guilty - and then he realized what she meant and the look he turned on her was genuinely panicked. "Ohhh nonononono, don't even joke about that!" He darted wary looks around towards the shadows, looking for a hint of spooky rags. "His husband is Ludo's demigod and he would kill me." He still remembered the flowers he'd delivered from Remi to Ronin...
And the blush of embarrassment that crept up over his neck and ears, darkening brown skin, likely did nothing to dissuade Cordelia of her assumption.
But both the joking the mixing slowed as the topic turned heavier and he didn't so much as bump Delia as lean his shoulder lightly against hers companionably. "Well... maybe... send him a letter?" he suggested hesitantly. "Might be easier to say things if you can, y'know, write them down exactly the way you mean 'em." He shrugged awkwardly and looked down into the bowl, mushing the flour around in the thickening dough. "I even know a guy who'd deliver it for you real cheap."
Or at least, someone would.
He absolutely slipped his grip on the bowl a little as she bumped him, because he flinched and looked almost guilty - and then he realized what she meant and the look he turned on her was genuinely panicked. "Ohhh nonononono, don't even joke about that!" He darted wary looks around towards the shadows, looking for a hint of spooky rags. "His husband is Ludo's demigod and he would kill me." He still remembered the flowers he'd delivered from Remi to Ronin...
And the blush of embarrassment that crept up over his neck and ears, darkening brown skin, likely did nothing to dissuade Cordelia of her assumption.
But both the joking the mixing slowed as the topic turned heavier and he didn't so much as bump Delia as lean his shoulder lightly against hers companionably. "Well... maybe... send him a letter?" he suggested hesitantly. "Might be easier to say things if you can, y'know, write them down exactly the way you mean 'em." He shrugged awkwardly and looked down into the bowl, mushing the flour around in the thickening dough. "I even know a guy who'd deliver it for you real cheap."
