For a second Zoey actually looked a bit flabbergasted as he kept talking, her expression clearly saying that she thought he was an idiot of some kind. Generally speaking, the only people who voluntarily tried to keep up a conversation with her when they didn’t need to were exactly the sorts of people Zoey wanted nothing to do with. She doubted very much that this would be different. “No, I don’t know, nor do I care to. I didn’t ask.” At this point Zoey knew that she was supposed to say something like ‘wow, you write music?’ or act otherwise intrigued in order to keep the conversation moving. She was aware of what she was supposed to do, she simply refused, even though clearly her current approach wasn’t working. “I’m sorry, do I look like I need company or something? Because I don’t. Or are you so fucking lonely that you don’t really care?” Another thought hit her then, causing her to look almost physically ill at the idea. “If this is some fucked up attempt at flirting or that shit, you can save it. Never gonna happen.” Her glare only got harder as he grinned. “Yes. Do you need me to draw you a fucking picture. And before you answer like a smartass, that was rhetorical.”
Her response didn’t really surprise Angelo. Her annoyance was clear, but that wasn’t bothering him in the least. Only encouraging him. “Very true,” he murmured, nodding his head. “Well, that’s the case. You know, I could sing for you sometime. Some of my lyrics, they are... wow,” he said, letting out a laugh. “I mean, I was pretty good at writing in high school. Even got awards for it, but it has just gone... downhill since then. It’s incredible,” he mused, shaking his head before laughing and glancing back down at his plate. He made a decision to slow down, not wanting to finish and lose his excuse to sit and talk to her. “Oh, the latter. Definitely the latter. I mean, you know, there’s my brother, but I almost punched him a few days ago, so you can guess how that’s going. So, lonely. I’m a sad human being.” When she seemed disgusted by the thought of him flirting with her, he was both amused while finding himself shuffling uncomfortably, shaking his head. “Nah. Nothing like that. Not my style. Or - I don’t have any style at all.” He reluctantly grabbed another fry, tilting his chin down. “... Does that mean I don’t get a picture? Damn.”
