[ the attention to her clothing — if one can even call it that; really, isn't it more just a glorified sack with a hole for the head? — puts a brief frown on her lips, bordering on a pout. her hands find her hips, which is the only way one can even hope to find a hint of a body under there. ]

It's awful, isn't it? And the color completely washes me out.

[ all that dreary gray... how insulting. if she hadn't commandeered the make up room herself, nobody would have even bothered to apply so much as blush to her cheeks!

but, she can sense enough he would rather talk about anything but the reason he's there in the first place. and that does mollify her enough that she decides not to push... for now. after all, part of the concern was making sure he wasn't off sulking alone. it'd be extremely counterproductive for her to nag him so much he all but pushes her away. ]

Had your plan been to get me alone, I would have been flattered.

[ said in a way so saccharine it's clear she knows that he knows that hadn't even been a consideration of his, let alone a plan. but that's alright, manuela is only more than happy to let him find his distractions, even if she shoots them down at every turn. ]

Instead you make me hunt for you, and now my feet are sore. [ they wouldn't even give her heels... just awful knockoff uggs. imagine! walking around flatfooted!! ] How do you expect to make that up to me?