Emma was aware of just how close he was as they walked out. Once they were out, though, and he moved away she shivered a little in the cool air. She echoed his motion, shoving he hands into her pockets, rocking forward and back from toe to heel, not quite sure how to stand still. "They're okay. They're just drunk blokes, yeah? I don't mind taking shite."
She caught her lip in her teeth, not sure how to fix the part where she'd made him uncomfortable. "Dates confuse me," she finally said, looking down at the ground. "They make my head get all weird, and I start talking like I'll never stop, and I never order the right thing in a restaurant, or I get drunk when I'm not supposed to, or start singing like an idiot when I'm supposed to be quiet. I get nervous. Especially if I actually like the bloke, and then I arse it all up and the bloke never wants to call me again because who wants to go out with a train wreck of a bird, yeah?"