𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒, certainly, but it isn’t hard to pick up the shift in sutton’s demeanor when they make eye contact. he’s in two minds to inspect himself, double check that he hadn’t spilled on himself ( or worse —- left his fly undone? ) to earn the reaction. but the urge is easy to swallow with another swig, their attention refocusing as she speaks. “i mean, both could be true at the same time, but right now? yeah, the song is good. to me, at least. i’ll let you know if that changes after i finish these, though.”

“What’d ya know? He has.” Percy’s smile was tight, but her eyes were alight with mischief and a brow was inquisitively arched. If she had noticed anything, she said nothing. Percy liked chaos and she liked trouble, and when the two presented themself, she had no problem playing along. “Oh, I’m alright. Just a bit irritated is all,” she said in earnest. “The nerve of some people, I swear.” Percy grinned, lopsided and good-natured. “You don’t mind if I stay here, do you? Now that he’s buggered off I can finally enjoy myself.“ She paused and tossed a look at the girl next to her. “Hey, are you sure there’s nothing I can offer you for your he– company?”

“Okay, here’s the deal.” Persephone slid into the chair opposite the other person without notice, well aware she must have appeared to be a madwoman. “You see that guy over there? —Don’t look him in the eye, you might summon him.— He has been following me around for an hour thinking he’s entitled to my attention and will not go away.” Telling him to get lost had fallen upon deaf ears, and given the fact she was unable to lie, she couldn’t make up an excuse to shake him. “I only have, like, seven bucks and half a bag of takis to my name, but I swear if you can get rid of him I will do anything you ask of me.” ( @duskstart​ )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓; a buzz through the room as the music shifts from slow and classical  to something more modern, more fun. it’s a minor change in the grand scheme of things ( no one’s transitioned to the dance floor despite their approval for the tunes ) but it’s enough to pry abel out of his heavy head to sway.

he has two drinks in tow; a glass of cabernet for himself and a cocktail, already sweating, for a currently M.I.A minnie. he’s been holding it, dutifully, because she’s bound to show up, but he imagines it’s naïve to think she hasn’t found herself her own drink – or two – by now. so, he’s started to sip it, accidentally first, absently now. it tastes surprisingly good mixed with the wine and gives him enough of an illusion of being tipsy that he’s loosening. relaxing. talkative. “i love this song,” he chimes to no one in particular, though the person closest ends up reacting enough to spur him on. “i can’t believe no one is dancing to it.” he knows, of course, he could remedy the problem if he wanted, but he’s content to use the two drinks as a scapegoat for as long as he can. 

he isn’t that loose yet. // @duskstart​

tag dump.