Liz made a face at the way Sid lifted his arm to her. "I didn't mean it literal, like that," she told him. "I'm good, thanks. I just meant a compliment in general."
She didn't mean to be mean. Honestly, she really didn't. It was just difficult for Liz to express everything going on within her head. It felt like a war in there, as the different emotions fought for attention. It was easier to stay quiet and only speak to those she genuinely cared for, or when it was necessary. Sid was rare person with whom she actually made an effort for. But even though her attempts at compliments still sounded a little half-baked, they often translated to something better.
So all she said was, "You smell like Old Spice. And that's good." Liz's crooked smile grew a little at that. "But tell me the truth, how much whiskey have you been hiding from me?