theo/divina | evening
The vintages were marvelous.
Divina had never been the type to overindulge, and it had been some time since she'd taken more than the odd glass of wine with dinner. The warmth was therefore quick to take root in the pit of her stomach and nip at the tips of her cheeks. It was a delectable level of relaxation. Features softened by a languid half-smile, she considered returning to the vintages table to order a barrel. It would have to be sent up to the estate—no doubt her cousins would think she'd devised some scheme to poison them.
If only.
It was with that last amused thought that Divina slid into the seat across the other berserker. She cocked her elbow onto the table.