"Nice to meet you." Simon offers his right hand for a handshake, should Effy want to make their introduction official (and to fulfill his own social obligation), but he's still holding the lighter and his clumsy attempts to remedy the situation look far less suave and self-assured than he wants them to.

Adulting is hard on no sleep.

"Going. First night off in over a week. You?"

Something about Effy makes Simon deeply uncomfortable; he doesn't quite know what. She's stunningly pretty, which doesn't help his self-consciousness any, but it isn't that. There's something about her that feels simultaneously extremely familiar and intensely foreign. Something about the way she smells.

...Oh.

Fuck.

Here he is trying to chat up a pretty girl, and she's fae. Because of course she is.