The confirmation brought a tilt to Odile’s lips, a snort falling from her lips, although it fell flat. “Why don’t we throw a couple of dangerous shots in there too, y’know, just because no fucks are going to be given once I’ve sank a couple…” or one too many. She laughed, head falling backwards as she attempted to match the energy,
Her tone wasn’t the same tempo as her usually light, high-pitched, excited voice. This was a party after all, wasn’t it? Where she flourished and excelled. Instead, it came out lower, less enthusiastic. But the comfort of her hand intertwined with Lisette’s allowed her to keep her head high.Â
Odile had been brought up in a socialite’s spotlight; she knew how to work a crowd. Her ability to mask had been one of her strongest skills. But this? It felt off-kilter, different from what she’d moulded herself too. She wanted to be the spit of Laurent, but even she had limits. She was still struggling to put the pieces together.Â
Walking, she didn’t realise how tightly she held onto the woman who was her family. But there was something in the way Lis commanded herself that it rubbed off on the blonde. Odile felt confidence bloom in her where it’d otherwise lacked moments ago.
Reaching the bar was a blur. Lisette talked, and Odile turned – staring back towards the ring. Before she snapped herself out of it, and came to look at the man who now looked flustered under the star of a St. Clair. Don’t worry, my dude, it happens to most people, she wanted to say. “Same, uh, please,” she managed, though her face had paled once again.
This is when she wished they could leave. No phones, no exit…stuck.Â
“Nope,” she hadn’t, and she wondered if it’d been for the best. “I always avoided it, honestly. I just thought…my image, there were certain things I should stay away from.” And it’d always made sense for her to do so. But Laurent being here…after everything he’d been through. “Maybe I thought I could handle more than I can…” Maybe she wasn’t as strong as she thought, though she didn’t voice that out loud.