Kennedy and Tiar | Dance Floor (1030pm)
Kennedy teetered a little, giving him an incredulous raised eyebrow. It didn't really carry much weight given how drunk she was, though. "No you wouldn't have," she stated, huffing out a breath as she spoke. "You're a nice guy. And Cy would kill you." Kennedy might not have known him super well, but she knew him well enough. She knew his type. If Tiar hadn't been the type to help girls in situations like this, they wouldn't even be having this conversation; whether she'd been saved or not.
Pulling her arm away was not her best plan, though Kennedy didn't fight him as he reached for her again. Despite her annoyance with him, it was undeniably nice to have him holding her close. Or so her drunken mind thought. "Lia doesn't count. She likes doing the opposite of what I want," she pouted, knowing Tiar was right. Her sister would definitely give him permission to scold in her stead. "And she has a weakness for pretty things, so it doubly doesn't count if she'd let you or not." Her own gaze held his as he spoke somewhat sternly, but she didn't flinch. "No, but your really nice 'you don't have a boyfriend to save you' comment said it all. So you stop." Drunk or not, Kennedy wasn't really the type of girl who held back when it came to saying things. At least certain things.
All of her irritation was forgotten, however, when he mentioned food. She followed him without protest or fight, leaning on him so it was easier to move through the writhing bodies. "Are you trying to reject my very nice request to dance?" she pouted, shaking her head sadly. "I can't imagine it's as bad as you say."