"What the fuck do you expect, Olivia?" It got his attention, fully, and he turned to face her, having passed quite near to her. He lifted his own hands, perhaps mocking her own gesture.
"You, you what? You want me to return the 'compliment', tell you you haven't aged a day, right? Tell you your fucking hair looks nice?" He never sought to lay a hand on her, and while his voice was raised, he wasn't shouting outright. But the words were harsh, moreso coming from him, a man who had never spoken in such a way to her. The anger was easy, but there was an undercurrent of pain to it all, even after all this time, that was impossible to hide.
"Hey, Liv. How've the last three goddamn years treated you? Wanna catch a movie, catch up on things? You're one to fucking talk about running away. How -dare- you lecture me." Harsh gestures accompanied the words, making a cutting motion horizontally in front of himself.