“They’re never that interesting,” she shot back, and if there’s an edge of resentment or resignation to her voice nobody has to know but her.
Though it’s true; these are parties for people who drink to get drunk, fuck to keep score, and gossip like cruel vampires. She just goes to be reminded why she doesn’t go. Maybe here, with the mask on, she’ll do something shocking to even these jaded socialites.
She tossed her head at his riposte. “Now I’m certain you’re hiding some deformity under all that black. You’d better get one of the girls here to check, just in case.” She keeps staring anyway — it’s a cutting comment, not meant to carry truth.
And how else is she going to get to look at beautiful bodies anyway?
The lad’s gaze shifts towards her general direction for a moment or so as he mulls over her rather terse reply. “You must frequent these types of parties often, then.”
Ace knows little about the gatherings themselves, but more than enough about the people that attend them. Needless to say, he isn’t all that impressed.
“I think you’d make a satisfactory tribute. Unless, of course, you’re afraid said deformity will jump out at you.” This time, he turns to her, smug grin tugging at either corner of his lips.
She splutters a laugh; the entire idea embodied in his words is hilarious. “Sure, okay.” She steps a little closer to him, looks up to see that his eyes are intensely blue. “I don’t think anyone’s on the balcony right now … “
This is the point where he’ll laugh at her, mock her for even pretending to take him seriously — basically backpedal furiously. She’s prepared to be amused as hell at whatever excuse he comes up with.