[ There's a snicker from him at that impression, both because it's entirely accurate (as she knows, and as he knows) and for something that's both nostalgia and isn't. Because it's too easy to again think of their younger selves imitating Lorenz - sometimes with the noble in question right next door, because that made it all the more entertaining - as well as their present day selves still doing the exact same thing.

Or - his present day. Not Hilda's, just yet. Which brings a pang he bats away as quickly as it arrives when it has no place here; the alternative is not having her at all, and that's not something he ever wants to go back to when those first few months were long enough.

Better then to shift into a smirk somewhere between actual sentiment and a mask to put over what he'd been thinking about to make it out of sight, out of mind. ]

You know me that well, do you? I take back all the wounding since you've flattered me so my ego knows no bounds now.

[ Too easy to squeeze her hand as they wander away from the stall towards everything else with her beads safely in tow. If he's not all that kidding about the flattery paired with that flutter of her lashes, well. Who's to say? He's just going to hum in response to draw out the anticipation in answering her question. On second thought, that's not really enough so he lifts their linked hands brush his lips against the back of her hand. ]

I suppose that depends. Do I still get to bribe you with paints to go with the beads?