Boots lay heavy, dangling one leg over the arm of the worn-out yet somehow still overstuffed Lazy Boy, posture slumped as she eyed whatever the fuck it is Sidd is doing now. Pacing back and forth, phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, muttering.

It's the muttering that drives her nuts.

She could handle being ignored, the inattention to her presence— that was mostly expected.

But the muttering as if she couldn't easily listen and hear? It was too much.

These days, it felt like everything was being kept from her. Missions, deals, alliances- she was starting to wonder if this was a coup or just a sign to hang up the patch. Grow up. Move on. The idea turns in her gut; a forceful puff builds in her cheeks, escapes, and blows hair out of her face; she finally decides to break his trance.

"Everything okay over there?" Eyebrows slightly raised as she does so. It's less of a question and more of a demand for information. A demand for a silent recognition she hoped to glean from getting his attention.

Olive pushes herself into a seated position, crossing her legs, elbows resting on her inner thighs as she gazes at him across the room. Listening for anything: a pitter-patter of the heart, a stammer, a sudden spike, something to say he's lying. That may be better than the calm; at least then the paranoia would feel justified.

"You just gonna mutter and argue on the phone all fuckin' evening?"