a little play off this and this. 

“I’m not handing out freebies on those ones,” Wanda calls out from the front counter. “Unless you’re thinking of jetting outta here again.” She’s fixing her mascara in her little mirror while there’s no customers, but she’s had her eye on him the entire time he’s been there; no surprise given the toothbrush incident, the memory of which has him red in the face as soon as she brings it up.

“It’s not that.” Casey doesn’t look at her. Instead, he keeps his focus on a half-empty rack of roses, eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched, arms folded over his chest. It’s not how he intends to pay that has him perplexed.

Wanda closes her compact with a deliberate smacking sound, as if to garner his attention. “There’s no one in here to distract me, so I guess I can trust you for now,” she teases.

“I’m not trying to steal them.” Casey snaps, though the flames behind his eyes are extinguished almost before ignition. He simmers down, slumps his shoulders a little, then plucks one of the roses off the rack - a blue one.

“Well, forgive me for being a little nervous, kiddo,” Wanda remarks. She’s smiling, teasing, but Casey pays it little mind other than a slow shake of the head.

“Hey, you talk to my mom a lot right?”

Wanda raises an eyebrow at him. “Every night when she gets off work, why?”

Finally, Casey looks at her. “Do you know her favorite color?”