Calle was twenty-two, now. And while she had waited until she was twenty-one to do most of her drinking, she had built up a bit of a tolerance. Besides, with everything that had been going on, why not get a little drink on New Years? Feel okay for once? Not think about the attack or the cave-in or her father or any of those things that were painful to think of and remember and experience on a damn day to day basis.
No, Calle was hittin' it hard for a reason. And that's probably why she wouldn't notice the decision to protect her, because she wasn't paying that much attention to his facial features, mostly just dancing and... drinking, really.
She danced hard - which did kind of help to sober one up. They were moving as if they were meant to dance together, in that weird kind of way that only happens every once in a while, when you come upon a random dance partner that actually makes you a better dancer. She felt totally alive. There was no denying the energy that passed through them was something special as they dropped it like it was hot. And oh, yes, they were just that hot.
"I'm glad I don't have to dance alone at home anymore!" She said, ignoring his decision to retract his home statement and just call it the mansion. Calle shook her head as they still danced, talking again. "If it's where you live, if it's where you like to be, and if you feel safe, generally, and like the people you are with, it can be home, Angel." That was a pure moment of truth. A drunken mans words are a sober mans truth, right? Calle had never called it home either. But it was.
Calle had just been dancing, not really looking at anything in particular, but out of the need to let it loose, she'd been genetically scanning everyone in the room, the possibility of copying their talents or knowledge of abilities always hanging in the air. It was because of that, that she felt Angel starting to build up his power. She latched on to him, ready to attempt to reign in the microwaves if he started to let them loose.
What happened, was the worst static through loud speakers she'd heard in a while. She squeaked, covering her ears before putting a hand on Angel's shoulder. It was then that he said he wanted to go outside, and she checked their hands to make sure they had stamps before she nodded and lead him out onto the street, the cold air hitting their faces in a sobering kind of way.
"If you start to lose it, I can help." She said, pulling out a cigarette and a black, half-sized zippo. She used it to light her cigarette before it was shoved back into some pocket or another along with the cigarettes. "And don't break this, or throw it away, or say it's bad for me. After everything we've been through, I figured smoking was easier than not smoking. I'll quit again... later."
Yeah, she was kind of touchy on the subject of her cigarette smoking.