. hands growing colder

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Cleo nods. "Oh yeah, you're scary. The whole unabomber look you've got going isn't helping." She's joking about that part, at least. The scruff and slightly outgrown hair suited Oliver, fed into the look he naturally had going for him. She had yet to grow out of her semi-ironic love of cheesy teen movies, and Ollie was very much of the bad boy archetype, the kind who'd be played by James Franco in a 90s movie if it weren't for the fact that he was good looking enough to star himself. It wasn't lost on her that she'd be far less intimidated by him if he weren't physically attractive, but she's not in the mood to interrogate why that is. Human nature, at the end of the day. She's sat on the couch with her legs pulled up, facing him now. She tilts her head at his comment, shaking it a little. "Nice of you to say, but it's at least a little bit me. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so... fucking annoying." She studies him for a moment, wondering what that stuff could be. Girl problems? A drinking problem? Something worse? Tipsiness is compelling her to pry, but on screen Marcus' mum has just overdosed. "Oh, no. No, no, no," she says, scrambling for a cushion to hold up between her face and the screen. This was the moment she buried her face in her dad's arm, unable to watch as awkward teen Marcus starts to panic about his suicidal mother. "I can't watch this. Tell me when it's the next scene," she says, locking her eyes on his and tuning it out.

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"It's a good thing I'm bad at math," he pulls at his beard. The scruff is much more in character than his usual shave. There's nothing less broody than a clean chin... though currently his face was looking borderline homeless. She's getting more comfortable and he is too. As his demeanor loosens up, his posture becomes less defensive. He unfolds his arms and kicks out the leg rest on the LazyBoy. This is the least uptight he's been in a while and he tries to not overthink it. He nods, "yeah. You've been fucking annoying." It was hard to disagree with her about that. She asked too many questions, she'd crossed too many lines. She invited herself into a place he'd thought he'd bolted up. It was irritating. "I could have been nicer though." She freaks out and if he were anyone else, he'd find it endearing. But he just grabs the remote and fast forwards it to the next scene, eliminating the problem completely. "What bugs you about that scene the most?"

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It was strange how spontaneously this had happened. Cleo strove towards spontaneity in life, but usually the most spontaneous thing she would do is smoke a joint with Lily, or reply 'yes' to a 2am 'you up?' text from a boy she had sworn to never see again. Though she had never come to LA to find fame or fortune, she had come to find fun, and for the most part what she found was long shifts with rude customers, followed by a desperate desire to crawl into bed when she did get home. Covid had chased most people she knew out of the city, and Lily was the source of most of her joy these days, with Theo contributing when he could. Oliver had never been part of that gang. She'd taken it personally for a long time, but watching him now, she was starting to believe that it was more about him than it was about them. "Most people aren't that nice, don't worry about it. I have a thicker skin than you probably think," she says, purporting a belief ingrained in her from working in retail and hospitality.  He fast forwards the scene and she looks at him with wide eyes, her mouth forming a perfect 'o'. "You can't just skip scenes! I mean, I can look away, but only because I've seen it so many times. Respect the story!" She mulls over his question, giving a little shrug. "I'm not great with death," she says. "Though she doesn't actually die, just FYI. Since you're missing everything. I don't know, Marcus' panicked little face gets me. I just love Nick Hoult."