[ She blinks. Shit, says Alexa, and that's probably a good sign that she hates it. She's about to pack it away again - quickly, before she... sees it... more? - but then, she actually reaches for it, picks it up. Balances it on her palm and for the first time, Stacy notices how long her fingers seem, probably because they're also rather on the thin side. For a second - a treacherous, treacherous second - she envisions the two of them in her room. Sees herself paint one of those short finger nails whichever colour someone like Alexa would prefer, it's hard to tell, and right now she probably shouldn't test her luck.

Sorry I've been keeping you waiting. It's okay, she thinks. It's okay if you promise you won't do so anymore.

What she says, however, is: ]

No problem.

[ She hits up the cash register. Puts in a few numbers, watches as it spits out a total, a small sum of Euroes, though she realises she's got no clue whether or not it's a small sum for her. Whether she's rich or poor, where she lives, what she likes to eat, how she goes to sleep at night. She doesn't know but she'd kind of like to.

Ugh. ]

The jewelry's on the house. Seeing as you aren't getting any credit, right? It's actually pretty rude of me.