Thalassa
The problem
with wearing a dress
with wearing a dress
Colt doesn't know her, but she certainly knows how to hit the nail on the head. Thal hates how much she likes Colt right now, how much she has to hide the smile that feels like betrayal on her lips. She manages it anyways, an expression more akin to disgust taking its place with a shrug to cast away the positive emotions that have begrudgingly attempted to infiltrate her mood. "I suppose not, but I'm less willing to deal with stupidity tonight." She'd rather not have to coach a man through sex, or worry about breaking them with barely a look. And considering the fact that Pierce was the last person she'd slept with... Thal buries the thoughts in another waterfall of alcohol, along with any inclinations of smiling.
It's finally starting to hit her system, a pleasant haze blunting the ache of her chest. And when her question gets turned back on her, Thal just blinks with a dull lack of amusement, not nearly drunk enough to laugh or start a brawl - yet.
She doesn't miss how Colt searches the crowd, and Thal has to stop herself from scanning the masked faces for her own pair of baby blues, ones she knows aren't here and aren't coming back. It hurts, and the buzz makes it harder to hide the brutal heartache that shines through the practiced disinterest in her eyes as she props her head on her fist. "If he can't find you, he's not worth your time." It's a mixture of incompetence and lack of awareness that she can't stand, one that Pierce had never shown.
Her thoughts are knocked aside to make room for surprise. Thal raises an eyebrow but still manages to keep a glare on her face, her voice flat as she says, "With you? No." She takes another slow drink of her bourbon, although she savors it a little more this time, weighing how much she has left in the bottle so she can ration what remains.
It's finally starting to hit her system, a pleasant haze blunting the ache of her chest. And when her question gets turned back on her, Thal just blinks with a dull lack of amusement, not nearly drunk enough to laugh or start a brawl - yet.
She doesn't miss how Colt searches the crowd, and Thal has to stop herself from scanning the masked faces for her own pair of baby blues, ones she knows aren't here and aren't coming back. It hurts, and the buzz makes it harder to hide the brutal heartache that shines through the practiced disinterest in her eyes as she props her head on her fist. "If he can't find you, he's not worth your time." It's a mixture of incompetence and lack of awareness that she can't stand, one that Pierce had never shown.
Her thoughts are knocked aside to make room for surprise. Thal raises an eyebrow but still manages to keep a glare on her face, her voice flat as she says, "With you? No." She takes another slow drink of her bourbon, although she savors it a little more this time, weighing how much she has left in the bottle so she can ration what remains.
is that it clashes
with a sword.
with a sword.
