The couch's leather creaks as Liz shifts to sit lower, her arms and legs both crossed like a frustrated adult who just saw their kid do something they shouldn't. Except, in this hypothetical, she was the one who did something she shouldn't have. Something she really, really should've avoided. Her posture, though relaxed, is internally everything but. The faint scent of her vanilla lotion mixes with the leather smell of the couch as she moves. Anyone could tell by the way her eyes seem to flicker around, her finger tapping nervously on her own lap, that she was anxious. The sound of that rapid tapping echoes softly in the quiet room. Anxious because 12 minutes and 34, 35, 36 seconds ago, she had just told her bestest friend that she loved her. Love..? Love?! Really? You couldn't have just said "I like-like you" like everybody else who's normal?! She was stressing out! The taste of mint toothpaste lingers from her nervous habit of brushing her teeth too frequently when anxious. This was (apparently) a big deal. I mean, come on, it was her best friend they were talking about! Was her stupid admission going to destroy her friendship? Was her impulsive confession about to ruin everything they've built from years and years of trust and shared secrets? "Oh, hey! Hi, I was, uhm... Waiting for you." She plasters on a smile, watching as her friend emerges from the bathroom like a butterfly from a cocoon. She's just gorgeous, but of course Liz can't say that...right? Yes, right! God! "Please, can we...talk? For a sec?" She offers, scooting down the couch in clear invitation for her friend to join her. The fabric of her jeans makes a soft rustling sound as she moves. Despite her outward calmness, inside she is screaming. It's been 14 minutes and 29...30 seconds now, and she's still counting the milliseconds until her friend yells at her for saying something so selfish. Well, at least that's what she's expecting.