Angelina didn't see Fred until he was making his approach. These fancy parties always tended to make her eyes glaze over, and she was completely dazed out by the time he started walking up. As soon as he spoke, though, her heart started thumping. This was ridiculous. She didn't get scared like this over anything. And it wasn't fear. If it was, that made her a coward and she couldn't wrap her head around it. She was... concerned. And confused. It was kind of a strange feeling to figure out that you had more-than-friendly feelings for one of your best friends.
"Boring is an understatement," she said, shifting her weight a little, finishing off the last little bit of champagne in her glass. She needed to try and be normal. Normal for her at a function like this was... ah, the shoe conversation. She could do that. "As usual I'm wearing skyscrapers on my feet. I think an elf just asked me to dance a minute ago," she said, but the attempt came off as halfhearted at best.
She let out a frustrated sigh, set the champagne flute down on a passing waiter's tray, and turned to face Fred, looking him in the eyes. "This is ridiculous. We need to talk. Really talk. Not this... whatever the hell we've been doing. I'm pretty sure we had a conversation about socks the other day, Fred. I don't like this." And now her heart was racing even more. Why was this so difficult? "Come with me?" she asked, heading out the back door into the gardens, lit with fairy lights. There were very few people milling around, which was even better. Everyone was inside for the auction.
"That night... Fred, I'm sorry. Okay? I really am. I know that running off like that was stupid and... completely not constructive at all. But... I don't want things to be weird anymore."