Dem's eyes widened at her answer, stuffing his hands in his pockets and determined not to eat anything on the table again. But her grin and curling nose seemed to be the language of sarcasm, and at her question he shifted from foot to foot.<strong>"Just... frogs. I guess."</strong>He couldn't help but laugh at her saucy little hand on her hip and her smug little grin, the mischief in her eyes. He straightened up under her scrutiny, lifting his chin just slightly and quirking a brow at her comment. He was trying so very hard not to rack his eyes over her form out of respect for his friend, but that was proving difficult as she was so very obviously flirting.<br/><br/>Caught by surprise, Dem took a small step back and found himself leaning against the counter.<strong>"Whispers? About me?"</strong>So much for a low profile, eh? Up until this year, no one was talking about him and that was just the way he liked it. Freeing one hand for his pocket, he rubbed his arm - something he always seemed to do when he was a little uneasy, yet also slightly proud and trying not to show it. Her back was to him then, and she was cooking again - without frogs, he hoped, though honestly now that his freak-out had run its course, he might eat another, anyway.<br/><br/>His gaze locked on the chocolate frog just as it bounced out of the kitchen.<strong>"Uh, yeah,"</strong>he murmured, turning to grab another fajita before he left the kitchen. Dem chased it into Kris's living room, bent over himself and hands stretched toward the ground trying to pick it up, and touching it every now and then but never quite grasping it. The frog jumped onto her couch, and a wicked smile curled Dem's lips as he launched himself onto its plush surface and victoriously grasped the frog in one strong hand.<strong>"Ha!"</strong>he cried out victorious, and proceeded to munch on the frog's head, sitting sideways on the couch.