To your service. Tiberius snorted and swirled the dregs around his empty glass. It seemed he'd been excluded from the toast by his desire to mentally check out of this situation as quickly as possible. It felt about right. He didn’t think much of his compulsory service, such as it was. Mostly training, a couple hectic months of skirmishing tacked on at the end.
You weren’t a man until you’d killed a Qunari giant, of course. Now that seemed like something Grandfather would say while deep in his cups. His brows drew down as he watched Enzo drape his arm around one of the ias – no, he could remember that one’s name, if only because Enzo had said it. Camilla. He was staring at his friend’s fingers, aggrieved and betrayed.
Mal had seemed somewhere in between, hesitant about the drink. Well, that was only good sense. Fine. If they were doing this — he needed only to get insufferably drunk.
This did not come naturally to Tiberius. Touching, innuendo. That had to be done manually, with effort. But he was quite adept at showmanship, darkening the space around their table with a flick of his wrist, so that the rest of the bar seemed to fade away. Putting a spotlight on Mal with another. He smiled at Junia.
“Oh. Well, that depends entirely on whether it is the kind of game with winners and losers. I wouldn’t waste my time on something with no stakes.” Delia was the bolder of the two, whose hand he had so recently evicted from his person. Now, he’d have to pretend he had some preference for her pale friend for that to make any kind of sense. Leaning forward, he poured another glass from the bottle. They’d need more alcohol soon if everyone drank from it twice.
Or perhaps he could make an ass of himself, have the girls leave of their own accord. It was very tempting. Perhaps he ultimately landed somewhere in the middle. Tiberius leaned close to Junia, the scent of her hair tickling his nose, and pitched his voice low just for her.
“Gratitude this, gratitude that. What do you suppose the two of them really mean by it?” This position gave him a rather good view down the front of her gown. He wasn’t gentleman enough to completely ignore it.
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to say anything shocking …”
“Please do.” He spared Delia an apologetic glance and took a sip of his drink. This did not improve the taste, herbal and overly sweet.
You weren’t a man until you’d killed a Qunari giant, of course. Now that seemed like something Grandfather would say while deep in his cups. His brows drew down as he watched Enzo drape his arm around one of the ias – no, he could remember that one’s name, if only because Enzo had said it. Camilla. He was staring at his friend’s fingers, aggrieved and betrayed.
Mal had seemed somewhere in between, hesitant about the drink. Well, that was only good sense. Fine. If they were doing this — he needed only to get insufferably drunk.
This did not come naturally to Tiberius. Touching, innuendo. That had to be done manually, with effort. But he was quite adept at showmanship, darkening the space around their table with a flick of his wrist, so that the rest of the bar seemed to fade away. Putting a spotlight on Mal with another. He smiled at Junia.
“Oh. Well, that depends entirely on whether it is the kind of game with winners and losers. I wouldn’t waste my time on something with no stakes.” Delia was the bolder of the two, whose hand he had so recently evicted from his person. Now, he’d have to pretend he had some preference for her pale friend for that to make any kind of sense. Leaning forward, he poured another glass from the bottle. They’d need more alcohol soon if everyone drank from it twice.
Or perhaps he could make an ass of himself, have the girls leave of their own accord. It was very tempting. Perhaps he ultimately landed somewhere in the middle. Tiberius leaned close to Junia, the scent of her hair tickling his nose, and pitched his voice low just for her.
“Gratitude this, gratitude that. What do you suppose the two of them really mean by it?” This position gave him a rather good view down the front of her gown. He wasn’t gentleman enough to completely ignore it.
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to say anything shocking …”
“Please do.” He spared Delia an apologetic glance and took a sip of his drink. This did not improve the taste, herbal and overly sweet.
05-24-2024, 05:09 PM
