#interaction.dean

It amazed her, how many people they'd invited actually showed up. It truly seemed like they both checked off every single friend box they had in Providence Peak and Emmy couldn't have been more happy about it. She'd spent the evening, slowly drifting into night, with flushed cheeks full of excitement and a half-sipped on cocktail glass in her hands. Even though she gave herself permission to indulge for just one night, her wife had still been helping her take care of each cocktail she brought for them. Having lost the woman in question in a throng of friends, Emmy meandered in and out of party-goers to find a table to sit at and watch everything happening, her shoulder brushing against someone who turned out to be a familiar face. The recognition brought a bright grin to her lips and she wrapped her arms around the man, careful to steady her cocktail glass as she gave him an excited squeeze with a squealed greeting of "Dean!" before pulling back. "You made it! Are you having a good time?"

The familiar face popped up at his booth, noticing the man before the other noticed him. The conversation about Ingrid moving in with the other fresh on his mind — even if it did happen over a week ago. Why was he so bothered by it? He believed her when she said nothing was happening with Dean, that the man was like her brother. They had no reason to keep something like that from each other. Yet, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that his best friend moving away from the place they'd always known together and into the city bothered him in some way. It wasn't the time to think too hard about it, though, not when he had about a dozen potential customers surrounding his booth, considering his oddities he created with the scraps he collected. "Dean!" Samar greeted happily, a smile forced its way onto his expression. "How are you, man?"