Re: shiloh & harlow ; on the patio
He spied her on the patio railing, and he thought it a perfect perch for her. She was too unique to be standing on the ground, and that would be too mundane for the likes of her. So he approached her, there, upon her wooden throne, and he smiled at her as she flung herself upon him. The drinks, sadly, lost a little more of their contents, but no matter. There would be drinks aplenty in this place, and, truthfully, Shiloh was hardly in a state to even notice the sloshing on his shoes. He laughed, and he hugged her with unsteady drinks in hand, and he thought her greeting bombastic and divine. Heath would hate it, which was usually a good indicator of something Shiloh would very much approve of.
He drew back from those perfectly painted little angel wings, and he held out a nearly empty glass to her. "For the lady," he said with exaggerated Prince Charming-ness, and then he laughed at himself. He was sufficiently gone that even his perpetual affectedness was a thing slipping.
"And of course I came. Did you ever doubt?" he asked her, and he lifted his own cup to his hand, and then he used the rim to motion to her eyes. Girlish things were foreign to him, despite the fact that he'd grown up with sisters. But his sisters had never been like Harlow, and they would have never painted wings upon their eyelids. "I like those. You should provide me with a pair," he suggested over the lip of his drink. "But first," and here he downed the drink and set it aside on the railing, teetering there and sure to crash, "we should loudly dance among the guests and annoy every last one with our collected wonderfulness."