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He'd been waiting for Jaina to say whatever was weighing on her and when she did finally let it out he was torn between utter amusement and the pleased, indulgent feeling he got whenever someone indicated they'd take care of him. Leaning close to her, he spoke in a low, confiding voice, "I need you to know, I'm actually..." his postured weakened in a half swoon, " a tragically weak man of middling height. So if trouble does turn up, please save me first, before you rescue any women or children."

Sitting back. Mal rested his chin in one hand and gave her a grin, "I wouldn't mind the company to be honest, at the very least, you could keep people from putting things my hair." A dismayed look passed across his features, "What if someone put gum in it next time?" He didn't mind the ah, haters, as it were. But he had his own lines in the sand and those usually involved his appearance. It would almost be preferable to lose a foot than get some tragic hair cut.

"Have you had run-ins with the city's strange things? I only moved here for high school. and then I was living in the dorms most of the time, so it's all rumors and hearsay to me."

He sulked a little at tiny until she reassured him. Honestly even if Jaina was shorter than him...she'd still probably have to be his protector, given his opossum-like skill of "passing out" at the threat of doing anything too unpleasant. But she could find that out later.

Not bothering to look at the menu, Mal instead just focused on Jaina, "I love hearing stories." This was possibly only the second personal detail he'd offered her so far, third if you counted his name. "What's the story you most like to tell people?"

And there was a hint, in his interested gaze, that he was also more than willing to hear the story she liked the least.

The server stopped by, giving Jaina time to consider, and he ordered a seasonal salad and the week's specialty macaron, along with a cup of mulled cider from the last batch of the season.

"You killed monsters at ten years old with your plastic lightsaber," Mal summarized with a grin. It wasn't the first time he'd heard of weird animals or outright monsters in the, Though usually it came in the form of vague warnings, and while there were certainly other reasons as to why he never went home alone from a club at night, those warnings were never quite forgotten. So he didn't treat the deal as a joke, but it also wasn't quite real to Mal either.

"So did you keep doing it? Are you still going out and turning monsters into dust?" No wonder she was so ready to be Prince Charming.

"Only if I get to hide behind you," Mal replied honestly. "Sounds like you were really cute as a kid. You're still cute now, of course. But it's hard to top a baby training montage on the jungle gym."

Their drinks came, filling their little nook with even more warmth and rich scents. Mal's hands were always a little colder, and the feeling of wrapping his fingers around the warm mug felt luxurious after spending the day and a bit of the night outside.

"If someone was to make a movie about your life, would you want it to be that sort of story? The kind of kids-on-bikes adventure where the spunky kid takes on monsters and bad guys with her friends? Hearts full of determination and toys in hand?" He traced his fingers along the handle of the mug. "Or...? What other story do you like for Jaina? It doesn't have to be a true one. Autobiographies usually aren't."

"Of course I know," Mal assured her and tasted his cider. "I've been told it's my only redeeming quality." He didn't seem to mind this fact at all.

Their food came a moment later, summoned, maybe, by Jaina's stomach. After the first few bites of salad, focused on the taste and textures, Mal shifted his focus back onto the conversation and his dinner partner.

"So now we have the story of a girl, once the bravest, toughest little girl on the block. But then life happened, and the world happened," Mal narrated quietly. "And years go by. She not a little girl anymore, but she's still tough and brave. Only her virtues are being wasted on things like calculus. But one day, she comes across a beautiful princess. The most beautiful in fact." He adds modestly.

Mal raised his eyebrows and put down his fork. He sat back in his chair for a moment, just looking at her before flashing a grin. He pulled out his phone, unlocking it before sliding it over to Jaina. She was treated to the image of his wallpaper, and surprisingly enough, it wasn't a picture of him, but of three fluffy black dogs, posed very properly on a velvet fainting couch. (Though the lockscreen, now that was a much more characteristic, much more risque flavor of selfie.)

Sitting up straight he leaned forward, looking up at her through his lashes, "Prince Charming can do whatever she wants with the beautiful princess. After all, not everyone is up to the task of keeping me safe."

Mal's grin brightened at the mention of "the gritty parts of the city" and then quickly froze when Jaina started speculating about...was she suggesting their own playground training montage?

Head dropping, his shoulders began to quiver with a huffy bit of laughter. He did say whatever she wants. Lifting his head with a dramatic flip of the hair, Mal slouched back in his seat. "Alright," he drawled. "I'll let you try to toughen me up." And he would do his best to not live up to her expectations.

"So when do we start, coach?"