Daisy really must have been masochistic. Her blood began to boil and, confusingly enough, the edge of her lips began to curl in a smirk. Not a happy smirk, more of a smirk of ironic disbelief. She knew he wasn't going to be nice, why did she still expect he would, perhaps, apologise and offer her a nice civil conversation? Shaking her head, Daisy was still smirking, but all the muscles in her face were trying to stifle it. "Yes, congratulations. Are you going to move on to a new project? Or still with this whole being an arse deal?" She raised her eyebrows at him, "It's a bit worn."

As Barty readjusted, Daisy readjusted on her own feet. Daisy was frustrating herself now. His seemingly nice request should have pleased her, as that was all she was searching for. However, it only made her clutch her book tighter. "You don't want me to sit with you." And she believed this. She was convinced he disliked her and, therefore, being pleasant could not have been genuine.

Daisy was observant enough to catch any of Barty's obvious physical flirtations. She nearly stomped her foot on the ground, but didn't. She didn't find it at all fair that he act at all flirtatious with her. Sure, it may be a form of kindness, which again she was looking for, but she couldn't help but be suspicious of his motives. Firstly, because the reactions of flirting will usually please him and secondly, because frustrating her will also please him. Daisy could not win. Glaring down at the boy, she did not sit down. "You're not allowed to do that, you know..."