[ olivia has barely enough time to stumble back when the large sweater is suddenly shoved into her face, hands flying up to fumble with it lest it fall to the ground at her feet. she feels a faint bubble of protest — not over the sweater, but over his assumption — quickly followed by a rather frantic need to correct him.
but she stumbles with her words just as she stumbles with her feet, and could do little else but to stammer out a quiet, ] Th-Thank you, [ and an, ] Um. It's... really not that bad...
[ she lingers by the doorway for a moment, looking unsure. ]
no subject
but she stumbles with her words just as she stumbles with her feet, and could do little else but to stammer out a quiet, ] Th-Thank you, [ and an, ] Um. It's... really not that bad...
[ she lingers by the doorway for a moment, looking unsure. ]
Please — come in... Vaughn should be back soon.