( When she moves to stand next to him, and they become one joined thing instead of two separate ones, he's immediately aware of how much she feels — closer than she's ever been (no, just closer in a new way), her arm tucked into his, a little taller than she normally would be at his side, loose dark hair and tight red fabric and buzzing with life and vibrance. Her fingernails are just as red, she's a presence that couldn't possibly be snuffed out, blaring hot.
It's so much, but somehow it isn't too much. It just isn't, she just isn't, even if his heart continues to pound so foolishly, and he doesn't know what to say or how to say it. This goes against every norm he knows, this lack of structure and planning — no rehearsed dialogue, no set direction for the situation to follow. They'll get him a drink and then... and then what? He doesn't know. He doesn't know a lot of things. What he does know is that now that he's found her, he wants to keep her.
(And even now, when she's all red flame, Little feels her glow beside him, not burn. Like soft flickering heat, warm. She doesn't hurt at all.)
He invites her closer and she accepts, right away. Something flutters up under the coil of nerves, a fresh little blossom of pleasure — that not-quite-but-almost sense of pride. It's too strange and difficult for him to ever fully be proud of himself, but... she makes it just a little bit easier to be. By wanting him here, being glad he's here, when he's always so very sure that it would be better for anyone at all if he were gone.
'I'm glad you came.'
It's dangerous to turn his head to look at her, she's so close to his face now, and the movement is slight, subtle, still polite, a dip of his head forwards just a little, and a flicker of his eyes sideways to her. His mouth purses with some amusement he barely tries to conceal, still mindful of his expressions, but eyes sparkling bright, as though a laugh lingers in them. )
Truthfully, this sort of thing usually holds little appeal for me. ( He's not much of a partier... imagine that..... The last party he attended, not counting the little October festival here, he had to be coaxed into it and even then, there was no real enthusiasm... Of course, it ended as bad as it ever could have, and truthfully, there's some part of him that might flinch from all the lanterns and candle here, the soft flicking glints of flame. The space is open, though, there are no canvases to become trapped in, no labyrinth to claw desperately against— )
But Captain Crozier has put in so much effort. I hope there will be no incidents.
( He tries to keep it positive, to not tumble down into his own fears, though— for many reasons, he's glad he's bumped into her. If something were to happen.... she'd be right there. He could make her safe. )
Are you having an enjoyable time, so far?
( He smiles at her, still without turning his head fully to face her, an almost sneaky, careful little glance over. There's a hitch of something oddly-shaped as he remembers seeing her dancing with Mr. Givens, whom he doesn't know well but has taken notice of as a seemingly respectable member of the community — he'd hosted a game night once (which shows initiative!), and he's quite handsome and seems very charming. Which is fine, of course!
—Actually, you know, perhaps he really could use that drink. )
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It's so much, but somehow it isn't too much. It just isn't, she just isn't, even if his heart continues to pound so foolishly, and he doesn't know what to say or how to say it. This goes against every norm he knows, this lack of structure and planning — no rehearsed dialogue, no set direction for the situation to follow. They'll get him a drink and then... and then what? He doesn't know. He doesn't know a lot of things. What he does know is that now that he's found her, he wants to keep her.
(And even now, when she's all red flame, Little feels her glow beside him, not burn. Like soft flickering heat, warm. She doesn't hurt at all.)
He invites her closer and she accepts, right away. Something flutters up under the coil of nerves, a fresh little blossom of pleasure — that not-quite-but-almost sense of pride. It's too strange and difficult for him to ever fully be proud of himself, but... she makes it just a little bit easier to be. By wanting him here, being glad he's here, when he's always so very sure that it would be better for anyone at all if he were gone.
'I'm glad you came.'
It's dangerous to turn his head to look at her, she's so close to his face now, and the movement is slight, subtle, still polite, a dip of his head forwards just a little, and a flicker of his eyes sideways to her. His mouth purses with some amusement he barely tries to conceal, still mindful of his expressions, but eyes sparkling bright, as though a laugh lingers in them. )
Truthfully, this sort of thing usually holds little appeal for me. ( He's not much of a partier... imagine that..... The last party he attended, not counting the little October festival here, he had to be coaxed into it and even then, there was no real enthusiasm... Of course, it ended as bad as it ever could have, and truthfully, there's some part of him that might flinch from all the lanterns and candle here, the soft flicking glints of flame. The space is open, though, there are no canvases to become trapped in, no labyrinth to claw desperately against— )
But Captain Crozier has put in so much effort. I hope there will be no incidents.
( He tries to keep it positive, to not tumble down into his own fears, though— for many reasons, he's glad he's bumped into her. If something were to happen.... she'd be right there. He could make her safe. )
Are you having an enjoyable time, so far?
( He smiles at her, still without turning his head fully to face her, an almost sneaky, careful little glance over. There's a hitch of something oddly-shaped as he remembers seeing her dancing with Mr. Givens, whom he doesn't know well but has taken notice of as a seemingly respectable member of the community — he'd hosted a game night once (which shows initiative!), and he's quite handsome and seems very charming. Which is fine, of course!
—Actually, you know, perhaps he really could use that drink. )