That was an awful lot of typing he was doing. With not much else to grab her attention, she glanced over at the notebooks and pads next to him. Boy, he really did do a lot of writing, didn't he? The sight did give her a chance to realize something a little weird; Jericho was still writing even though he had asked her to speak. Could it be a similar problem? No, he just seemed too... friendly for all that non-sense.

Finally, there was the beep, and she read over what he had to say. Her posture went rigid halfway through, eyes flashing back and forth from his face then back to the tablet.

"You can't--" She started, but brought the tablet up higher to read on. As if doing so would make her read faster. She frowned at the end, blushing yet again and slapping a palm over her forehead. Idiot.

Then she let out a huff, straightened up and grabbed up her tablet again, glaring determinedly into it's screen.

I didn't know you couldn't talk! Why didn't you tell me? I must look so pathetic to you.

She looked up, bring that glare along, then... the posture, expression and all deflated with a sigh. Yes, it was embarrassing, but that didn't make it Jericho's fault. If anything...

I'll write too. It's easier for me and I don't mind.
You write all the time right? So I'll just do it with you.
Your handwriting is really good by the way. I'm kinda jealous.