party all night

Lilin Soulstorm · 05-07-2012, 05:10 PM

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(641) derplilin for ya'll.

Perhaps she hadn't fully weighed the pros and cons of the decision she'd just taken. Some thought had gone into it but she hadn't quite understood the ampleur of Saul's power until his dare mercilessly sent her pomposity back where it had come from. Dance? Her desire to keep up with the boys had definitely landed her in hot water. Lilin had greatly underestimated her opponent and, at this point, could do nothing but oblige and give him proper credit for finding the one thing she'd consider backing away from. She could have kissed a toad, eaten just about anything or even exchanged clothes with one of the boys; but dancing, now that was just absurb! The group's attention had shifted to her immediately, making her feel a little too self-conscious for comfort.

Her hands were brought to her cheeks, shielding the lower part of her face from the unwanted audience. "Fine," she muttered, enslaved by the unwritten contract she'd verbally agreed to a few moments prior. It was darn a good thing looks couldn't kill because those Mediterranean blue irises of hers were shooting daggers at Saul from across the fire. Bran's casual strumming had changed into a slow, spellbinding melody that resembled nothing they had sung on this night thus far. While her cousins and their complicity was unnerving at that very moment, she couldn't help but notice the same familiarity influencing the entirety of their gathering on an every day basis. It was a beautiful thing.

Her ability to stand did not come as easily as it would normally have, but she did so with relative ease compared to the level of intoxication she would face later on. She hesitated momentarily, debating where she should position herself for the show. Common sense told her to stay rooted in place though; displaying a preference for Saul under the scrutinizing gaze of her family was a bad idea. Her very first moves brought on a sense of amateurishness paired with concealed embarrassment but before long, Bran's song became faint vibrations and the Soulstorm heir's hips were gently swaying to her own eclectic beat. Her vision was blurred by the flames before her, distorting the bodies of those celebrating along with her.

She was lost in a world of her own. It was easier to pretend it was Saul alone sitting before her. Both of her arms arched above her head, elbows angling the cascade of curls framing her dichotomous face. Lilin's fingers shamelessly ran through her wavy mane; her routine picking up and dropping with the beat of Bran's guitar. There was something oddly soothing about this moment; every step taken and every shift of her body conjoined harmoniously with the music and every so often, she would dare a glance in his direction. She owed most of it to the winter festival; her rendezvous with Saul and her amplified knowledge of dance and its components.

The song didn't last as long as she had foreseen, thankfully enough. The sounds of Bran's guitar faded with a natural diminuendo and Lilin mockingly bowed out of the spotlight, allowing her arms to drop to her side. She made her way to Saul then, growling a low warning as her fingers closed around the empty vodka bottle they'd been using to play their game. There wasn't much distance between his seating area and hers but somewhere in between, the bottle slipped from her grasp and landed rather ungracefully on the floor. It cracked then, in the one place where it shouldn't have. The neck of the bottle found itself separated from the rest of the container before Lilin could even react. "Oops. I'm sorry," she blurted uselessly, dropping to her knees after a mild bout of dizziness. They could always pour another bottle's contents on the floor if they still wanted to play.

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