"Yeah yeah I got it. You're breathing otherwise you wouldn't be talking. Not rocket science." she replied, relieved that at least he wasn't dying anywhere near her again. Juno had stopped slapping his back, because at a certain point it stopped being helpful and went right over to painful, but she kept her hand on his back. With the other one, she retrieved her drink from the pool table. She was still looking at Marco fearfully when he took another sip of his drink, as if to make sure things had gotten back to normal and he wouldn't choke again. He didn't, and she nodded. And then, she kept looking at him, forcing a smile, dropping the smile. He wasn't saying anything.
"Okay." she finally replied, going back to her drink, removing her hand from his back to hold the straw in place. She didn't know what to say next. In her mind, Juno wondered how one navigated wanting to jump a friend's bones so much images of her tossing her drink aside and hopping on him onto the pool table were flashing before her eyes and forcing her to empty her drink much sooner than she would have liked. "Refill!"
Juno walked away at a brisk pace, fixing herself another rum and coke, and this time not going easy on the rum at all. She plopped a couple ice cubes onto the glass then held one against her face, but ice wasn't exactly easy to grasp, so the cube fell down her neck and chest right onto her cleavage. That was worse. That was much worse. She knelt behind the bar and fished it out of there, pushing it to a corner where no one could slip on it, then made her way back to the pool table hoping no one had noticed the little 'incident'. This time she made a conscious effort not to look at Marco, and went back to her initial position, with her back against edge of the table.
"You should probably eat something." she forced out. Oh fuck not again, she thought immediately after. "The food I mean. The French crap. Some of it's good, promise."