[Lin mentally runs himself through the Fahrenheit to Celsius conversion equation. 96.3 - 32 is 64.3. Multiply that by five. 320 or near enough. Divide that by nine. Nine goes into 32 about 3.5 times, so 35.5 degrees Celsius or so. He is proud of himself, but his good feeling is quickly deflated as he focuses back on Aubrey and the sounds of utter loathing and sadness behind his quiet voice. For a long moment, Lin considers confessing his feelings, but he hesitates, knowing Aubrey is crushed by his dapper ex's disappearance.]
I don't know. [Lin laughs uncomfortably, obviously exasperated.] Up until like, two days ago I thought you mostly hated me. And for all I kmow, you still could. Which, obvi, you have a right to. I'm just saying.