Maybe it scores. Maybe that's all part of this strange, strange place, and this new partnership she has. A concession on both sides. For not belonging, and for knowing well and clearly where the cards are, even if she doesn't have them. But there's no point beyond the glance of touching it. An acknowledgment in his two words that are as much as her Yeah, it will had been.

Which is maybe, why she decides it. Because it's just that. An acknowledgment from Nathan. Without an additional rebuff, doubled down, or shuffling off to leave her there, with that empty draw, alone. Still the outsider, the intruder, unwelcome even when she's right, or more so because of it. But he doesn't. Move. Leave. Say anything but those two, and maybe it's even at the very least.

Audrey leans back, just enough to get the space to fold and unfold her legs, to cross her far too hot, and far too winter-booted feet on the corner of her unsuspecting desk. Doing her best to try and not let her smile get out too soon, dropping her pen dramatically on the desk as she twists to reach for the college stickered coffee mug on the far side of the desk behind her.

His expression has already started trying either to contort or definitely-not-to, and Audrey adjusts her hold on the coffee mug in her slouched easy, laid-back position, giving him a prim order of that refuses by its middle to be anything but martialed teasing: "This is one of those times where you need to say absolutely nothing."