Who: Marco & Oliver When: Noon-ish Where: Oliver's room, then Marco's room
Marco hadn't stopped chewing on his fingernail since Juno had sent him a message. It bothered him that he was reacting so poorly to Juno's request to help her become more comfortable in her own bedroom. He was uncomfortable in his own skin still, so it shouldn't have mattered where he stayed, but he'd still only left Oliver's room a couple times since his breakdown, and at no point had it been longer than an hour before he returned to what he now considered sanctuary. It scared him to think of being out of it longer, even if it was just next door. He'd already said yes, though. And it wasn't like he just said it to humor her; he did want to help her however he could. He liked being with her, and he liked making her happy, and he liked when she smiled and held his hand...
He just knew that this would end up like last time, though. He was supposed to be helping her the day that he was triggered, and he was still dealing with that. He'd mess up and hurt her again, and even though she tried to understand, she'd end up avoiding him when he got too weird, which he knew was any second now because he couldn't get his fucking thoughts to slow down.
He'd paced around Oliver's room for a while, chewing on his thumbnail until he was biting skin off his thumb, when he wasn't muttering to himself or one of Oliver's lamps. He knew he was having a bad day, at least, and for a minute he even thought about changing out of the way too large clothes that he'd stolen from Oliver (though, he did like the long sleeved shirt because it covered up all the lines he'd drawn on his arms the day before) but forgot about it quickly as he went back to worrying about how he'd be able to leave.
He jumped when the door opened and Oliver returned from probably the place that made Marco the most nervous. He didn't greet him, just silently watched him for a moment before returning to his pacing. He would have ignored him completely if not for the fact that Oliver had returned with food, and even though he wasn't really hungry, he was still trying to stick to the routine of eating more than once a day. So he moved closer, but rather than offer to help carry stuff, he jabbed a finger into Oliver's arm. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked, while staring down at what Oliver had brought up. "What is that? Wait, no, that's not my question."