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"Has anyone ever told you how weirdly pretty you are?"
Matt pretends he doesn't blush and focuses on raising at eyebrow at Jeremy, whose just staring at him while Matt tolls away at his computer. It's been going on for about thirty minutes and Jeremy might be a little drunk, which is almost impressive, and Matt had honestly thought he'd fallen asleep. "Not that I recall. What's so weird about it?"
"Well, it's just - okay, look, none of your features individually are anything to write home about. But you put it all together and it works - works pretty well, really. I've been mentally desconstructing your face for a bit now, and thinking about what parts of it would look like on other people, and you must have gotten the perfect combination," Jeremy says. "Or maybe it's just because you're you."
"I am me," Matt agrees. He has no idea how much of what Jeremy is saying is meant to be a compliment or just a statement of facts. "Well, uh, you look . . . correct, with a bald head."
"Matt, I don't know what that was supposed to be, but that was just a factual statement. I look like I was meant to be bald because I was. It is correct."
"Well, to be fair, I don't know what you were trying to say either."
"I think it makes sense. I always make sense, Matt, you should - you should know this by now. It's not hard - you're making it worse than it needs to be. Everything I say makes sense, always, and I never tell lies. Anyway, I mean that - like - you're pretty, but not conventially. Which isn't a bad thing. You know how a lot of celebrities look the same these days because of plastic surgery?" There's a too long pause where Matt doesn't realize it's not a rhetorical question before he finally nods. "So, you're like the opposite of that. They're so conventially attractive it's unreal and weird, and you're attractive in a way that isn't expected so it, like, hits extra hard."
"So. This is a compliment?"
"Yes - I mean - I don't know how this is confusing for you. I guess you weren't lying. People don't tell you enough. About your prettiness and stuff. Should I, like, remedy that? Fix the damage we as a society have done?"
"I don't think it's that serious."
"Because I can. I might. I mean, it's a matter of time before I fall asleep, because it's like 2 fucking am or something. Jesus Christ, dude, why are you working this late? This is absurd."
"There was some things needed done."
"Can't it wait until morning?"
"Hypothetically, but waiting could potentially put all of our lives into danger. Not immediate danger, but definitely some level of danger."
"Dude, we're always in some level of danger. You should start a union or something. Or get someone to delegate this shit to. Anyway, I didn't preplan for this so I will - I can feel it, I'm going to fall asleep at any moment - but I can try my best. You have really nice hands. I'm watching them right now, and they're really nice. I like them."
"You sound like a villian right now, by the way. You sound like you're going to take them. Are you going to take my hands, Jeremy? I need them. Every single day I use them at least once."
"I should. I should hang them on my wall, like art pieces, because they are, but then I'd have to do that with all of you, because it's all sort of at that level, but then I'd want to still talk to you, because I like you and you're my friend, so I'd have to put your brain in a robot or something and not only do I not have that technology but once you saw your body on my wall you'd get really mad and kill me or something. And that'd be a bad way to die. I've seen you. You draw that shit out."
"I feel like I should be insulted, but honestly that's a fair assessment."