Carmy is deeply charmed by her threatening to kick his ass, maybe even moreso than being liked. Being liked doesn't really stick, in his head, as like a real or true thing. Too easy to come up with a million quick caveats and dismissals. But butterflies, and that nose crinkle, that works better.

It feels cruel to make a move, when he's not an easy guy - ever, in any way. There's a lot of shit happening in his life, and if he was a better person he'd try and talk about that first, about the 'it's complicated' bracelet. Talk about Claire and Parisa and Richie, about Mikey and Syd and The Bear.

Instead he leans in and kisses her, smoke-sour between them, colourful hand slipping paint down her arm as his fingers tighten anxiously on it and then release. As quick and simple as saying he likes her.