Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, |
Ari picked up her glass, which had just arrived, and toasted him with a sly smile. “Don’t worry, I would help if you were ever so unfortunate. Red is more your color, I think,” she added, eyeing him critically. “Though I would be tempted by lavender, I will grant you. Lavitz in Lavender has such a ring to it, don’t you think?” The temptation to roll his eyes was great, but with effort, he kept from doing so. Red’s more suitable for all the blood on my hands, he nearly confessed. No, too somber a topic, and she didn’t need to know about those insecurities. “If it ever comes to that, I’ll be blind by then, anyway,” the dragoon admitted, but not bitterly. “Go wild— my family doesn’t think I’m embarrassing enough as it is.” Or maybe somber topics were inevitable, no matter the company. He reached for the vodka again. “Sadly, one cannot develop a sense of humor — your family is living proof.” If Ari noticed the somber mood, she gave no sign, her own tone remaining cheery. “Though, I warn you, I may make it my life’s mission to find a princess that can cry on you and restore your sight, if it comes to that — surely not all the children’s stories are false, and you would be a vision worth seeing… before you promptly blinded yourself again in embarrassment, I suspect.” Lavitz nearly knocked the shot glass over at the word princess, but managed a smile, at the very least. “As long as you don’t ask Kiernan,” he warned, pouring for himself. “Then I may never recover.” Before throwing back the vodka, he added: “Lavitz the Blind has a much better ring to it. Zelda can be my seeing eye dog.” Then, down the hatch. “No, if anything, I’d slap a costume crown on Aud’s head,” Ari assured him. “She’s the closest to a princess I’ve got.” She eyed the bottle curiously — down to a quarter of its contents now. “I am duly impressed by your dedication to erasing your memory,” she said. He motioned toward her with the glass upon swallowing. “I’m drinking your share, let’s pretend that’s what I’m doing.” After setting that down, he picked up the bottle once again, but not to pour: to hold it out to her for a toast. “Cheers, to somehow living through that. And may I not be blind tomorrow.” She grinned, clinking her glass against the bottle and said, “And to your liver. May it rest in peace.” |