Well, she hung out with him voluntarily, so her dirtball radar couldn't have been that finely tuned. Namur shrugged, even as his blush deepened slightly. He kept promising himself that one day he'd learn to make it go away. So far, all attempts have only lead to making it worse.

"So long as y' realize there's shitty douchebags out there, I guess it's okay," he mumbled. There was a lot that she said that he didn't really want to chase, conversationally. It would result in either frustration, more whining, or continued embarrassment and Namur didn't feel like dealing with any of those things. He switched out the music, threw in a riotous, fast paced piece. Those that weren't ready to raise the roof could take their sorry attempts at romance outside.