Re: Near the Entrance
"I'm great." His thoughts ran a moment behind hers, blurred as they were by the respectable quantity of whiskey he had already put back. His careful perusal of her chosen attire stirred his memory; each line of flawlessly fitted material clung to the curves he had seen bared in his dream, alternately concealing and revealing what his hands - and somehow not his, he thought, immediately dismissing the thought - had touched. He shifted his weight, one foot to the other, recalling too strongly the flood of sensation that had come with that dream. Would that it had been a mere sex dream, uncomplicated and familiar; perhaps then Samuel would not feel this sudden, strange awkwardness. Between the drink and his own sense of being thoroughly thrown, it took him a moment to regain his composure. He filled the silence between them with a long pull from his glass, grateful for the garish lighting and pounding music to make the sudden void in conversation somewhat less obvious.
He managed a smirk as he lowered the glass from his lips, turning to humor to dig him out of this hole. "In the interests of keeping things civil, I won't ask who helped get you into all that."