Oh. He was rather pretty?
Chandler blinked at Wendy for a bit, trying to compute those words, but he really couldn't. Wait---no, no he couldn't understand how someone could think he was pretty. Well, wasn't 'pretty' a term used for females? Was she saying he was feminine? That would be absolutely counter productive, and Chandler hoped his mind was just leading to the wrong conclusions. Pretty. Wendy Tremaine thought he was pretty. Pretty as in...cute? Cute could be good. Cute could be very good, actually, and...
Wendy thought he was cute?
Oh.
Chandler blushed furiously and barely kept himself from letting out a noise of discomfort (but not the bad discomfort, this time--which was rare) as he put his hands out to help Wendy to her feet. He actually managed to hold back any sort of ridiculous reaction at being this close to her, and patted down her arms when she was finally upright. These floors were dusty.
"Are you okay? I--I know a few--head...healing spells." Chandler gave her a shaky grin. "Books are always falling on me. And--I'm always falling, too. I mean--not that I think you fall a lot because---you don't look like you're clumsy like--me."
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