She shook her head, trying to give it back to him, leaning into his side. "Don't worry. You'll be coldddd. I'm alright."
"No, you're not," she told him, putting the coat back over his shoulders. "I'm alright. The taxi's almost here."
She watched him for a moment before scooting into his arms, leaning into his side. She smelled vaguely of liquor, but underneath itn was the delicate smell of her perfume; mint and vanilla. "Thanks."
She glanced up at him, her spring eyes clear despite the liquor. "Who, Arlo and Callie? I don't think they have a right to be."
"And they were sober," she replied. "And they told us that their relationship didn't mean anything before going off to kiss anyway. Besides... I'm not..." She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm not with Arlo anymore."
She was quiet for a moment, thinking carefully. "I don't know," she said eventually. "I mean, I guess technically you did. But I really don't think she has any right to be hurt about it. Tell me honestly; would the thought to kiss me have ever crossed your mind if you weren't hurt?"
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well... you've got to figure out the reason. If you kissed me because you were hurt and curious, then maybe Callie will be easier about it. If it's because you like me, though..." She trailed off before shrugging. "Well, that's different."
"It would be, but it'd be more painful for her to accept," she replied, her gaze following the headlights as the taxi approached. "It's... different."
She glanced up at him, frowning. "Well, there's two possible answers to that question. Either a. you were sad and I was here. The second option, b., is that you like me and wanted to kiss me."
