Marco had a point. Juno, too, had been missing music in this shindig. Somehow that thought was clouded by how the Spanish speaking went right through her, made her shiver and feel butterflies in her stomach, then back to normal. What the fuck was this now?
"/Kinda shitty without music, you're right./" she admitted, and then chuckled at what he said next. "/You don't. And neither do I. But listen, some of the food is good plus you didn't have to cook it, they are our clothes now, and we look great./" At least he looked good enough that she took turns being unable to tear her eyes away from him or being too bothered to look at all. The part about people cooking for him made Juno snicker, because she, too, could get used to this and never complain about anything ever again. Juno took another silent slurp of her drink and eyed Marco as a mischievous smirk appeared at the corner of her lips. "I have music in my room and I'm pretty sure I could toss a couple bite-sized things into a box and bring it up there plus a bottle of something or other, so...you know. Eat your heart out."
Had that sounded as suggestive as her inward thoughts that she had tried very hard not to let show had been? Hopefully not. That was not an invitation. Was it? No, couldn't be. Juno hadn't said it exactly as she had imagined it, because what she had imagined was stupid and came out of nowhere and made no fucking sense. Get your shit together, man. Get plastered if you have to. She drank some more. She eyed the rapidly emptying glass. "Oh no, I'm almost done with this one."