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The water in her throat goes down the wrong pipe. Vaggie coughs into her elbow, sputtering as she sets down her glass.
Then comes the wave of panic that crashes like a tidal wave, betrayal ripping through her in a familiar slashing sensation. She knows the feeling is unfair, knows that if anyone should be feeling betrayed it should be Charlie, and not herself. But the question spins in her mind on loop, frightened into action.
How did Charlie know? How did she figure it out? For how long did she know? Why was she just mentioning it now, so suddenly-
"Ooohhhhh man! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize how that sounded out loud! I just meant that you're gorgeous and could fool anyone for being an angel-"
Vaggie blinks.
"Shit! That wasn't meant to be taken offensively... you're perfect as you are. I really didn't mean to imply that the exterminator's that hurt us were beautiful, or that you were like them at all. And you don't have to be an angel to be beautiful! It's just a common... ah, compliment I've heard and-"
She doesn't completely settle, and her back sits straight and tense. Partially because of shock; partially because it hurts to lean back on the scar tissue where her wings had been torn off. Even just bringing it to mind makes her wince.
The bones snapping... the muscles stretching before ripping... the lack of balance... the blood...
She shivers.
"...Vaggie? Are you okay?"
Looking up through her hair, she realizes she hasn't looked at Charlie in the eye for a few moments. They're as mesmerizing as always, the red colour almost glowing in how akin they were to crystals. Ruby, maybe. Or topaz...
Vaggie has to actively pull herself away from staring at the other woman's eyes, and decidedly does not shift her focus to Charlie's soft lips or loose hair.
"Yeah, sorry for spacing out," she fumbles for a moment. Her brain was really focusing on all the wrong things. Get a fucking grip.
"No, it's my fault... I shouldn't have said something like that. I did it without thinking." Charlie purses her lips, setting down the fork she'd been fiddling with. "You're the most beautiful sinner I've ever met. I'm sure that any angel would be jealous of how pretty you are."
The left side of Vaggie's face had lost a lot of feeling since she'd lost her eye. Something to do with nerves. Medical jargon and shit that she didn't really understand. But the right side of her face began to burn hot enough to make up for it, and Vaggie was certain the hue was visible despite her darker skin tone.
"Las cosas que me haces..."
Desperately, Vaggie reaches blindly for a napkin on the table. Which she finds, and finally starts to dry her chin from when she spewed water all over herself.
She wants to roll her eye. So much for trying to look put together and romantic.
Yet despite Charlie's fumbling, despite the irony of her statements, despite the pain in her back and how she can only comprehend the scene in front of her with one eye, she laughs.
"I know what you meant," Vaggie isn't entirely oblivious. She knows the phrase is an older pickup line used by humans, and that Charlie wasn't trying anything back-handed. Her mind had just went to the wrong place first, which considering her circumstances, Vaggie can't really beat herself up over the minor misunderstanding that Charlie was oblivious to.
"I'm flattered."
It was unspoken between them that this dinner was a date, after all. So Vaggie tries to push away her guilt at not telling Charlie anything about who she was- she had no obligation to, after all. But eventually she would, if things continued as they were.
Charlie's grin was blinding, and Vaggie couldn't help but let a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth as well.
As usual, it doesn't work. So all she can do is try to ignore the guilt festering underneath her skin like boiling water. Ignores that despite Charlie's strong beliefs in redemption, something like that would never be within her grasp.
Not as a fallen exterminator.