the scowl on miguel's face is everlasting as crimson eyes glance over at lyla and then back at the multiple screens set up before him. "you don't have anyone else to go bother?" maybe his words are harsh, but it's clear he's trying to be angrier than he actually is. right now... he actually doesn't mind her company here with him, pretend as he may otherwise.
𝗔𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘'𝗦 𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗧 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦, a flicker and a flash, before she's made her way over, close. god, he's always so gruff, so stubbornly dour, a facade the brunette's all too quick to see past ( 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘵'𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 ) there's not much lyla misses anyway, and miguel o'hara is certainly 𝗻𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. besides, who's she to deny herself the joy of getting a little rise out of him? a hum, a haw, and her arms drape over his shoulders, her head resting against his own for a moment, ❝ oh absolutely, but no one's as fun. you make it so easy! ❞ there's something deeper to that sentiment than she'd like to admit, more than she'd ever say. so she'll laugh, she'll nuzzle her cheek against his before bouncing back, her hands clasping behind herself, fingers lacing, ❝ buuut, fine. if you're gonna be like that.. ❞ turning around and taking a few steps away, she pauses to cast a glance back at him, pout ever present, ❝ i'll just go away. gone. 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥. ❞ as if she'd ever follow through with that.