[backdated to a thousand years ago]

[floozyfacade]

I try not to expect a lot of things. Which makes me sound pessimistic, I swear, I'm anything but, just… life throws a lot of curveballs your way and trying to predict them rather than just going with the flow of what's coming at you? Doesn't usually work so well, and it tends to close you off to a lot of possibilities. Hence the… general lack of

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[pointzerothree]

Though he still finds, more often than not, that there isn't that much to do around here, Eduardo doesn't usually spend too much time in his hut, at least not on his own. He's with Olive or he's with Mark or he's outside, between buildings or at the beach. So far, though, he hasn't seen either of the first two yet today, and rather than going out has been at his desk with a book, having told himself a few times that he would do something else soon but not yet having been bothered to. It isn't like there isn't time

[floozyfacade]

It's a brief respite, the way the stress of over-thinking things melts away when he steps in toward her, but Olive welcomes it wholeheartedly. She honestly isn't sure of the answer to his question, only that she wants to stay in a few seconds where none of it matters. Whatever her personal conflict on the matter of Mark, there's one thing she's sure of, which is that, while Eduardo may mention him frequently, she doesn't want to, not if she doesn't have to. She's seen the effect he has on her boyfriend and she's been determined not to contribute to that, to let him be in charge of those conversations.

Now, though, she takes the moment to kiss him properly on the lips first, quick and soft, before she steps inside. "Not that I need a reason," she says lightly, "I thought you might wanna know you can cross introducing me to Mark off your to do list. I just ran into him in the Compound."

[pointzerothree]

There's a moment where Eduardo isn't quite sure what he's been told, taking those few seconds to close the door and lean back against it, watching her curiously. The words themselves are more than clear enough, incredibly simple, but they're said so casually that it's hard for him to believe he's heard her correctly. In retrospect, it was bound to happen eventually, the island small enough that there's no real way they could have avoided each other, but the idea of Mark and Olive meeting by chance is almost more than he can wrap his head around, enough to leave him admittedly on edge.

"Oh," he says, blinking a few times, well aware that he's got to sound stupid, but completely at a loss for what else he could say. It buys him time, anyway, to collect his thoughts, though there's no denying the worry in his expression when he continues. "That's, um. How… did it go?"

[floozyfacade]

That's a good question. Olive's not sure what the answer is. She shrugs, turning to face him as she walks backward toward his bed, flopping down on it. "Uh... you know, not bad," she says, "it was... How did you think it was gonna go? I told you I'd be nice." She just didn't expect to be that nice, but she also knows she can't quite help it. She's been raised to give people second chances - and third and fourth and beyond, depending how far they push her.

She'll need to mention the project, but she's wavering, not sure if it'll help or hurt things or how best to introduce it. It's not the kind of thing she wants to blurt out, though she probably will. "It was fine."