Re: ~8-ish, near the dance floor (Kami, Navid)
A careful observer - perhaps one less enamored of the party atmosphere in general, or its better known attendees in particular - might have noticed the brief flicker of uncertainty that crossed Navid's face then. It showed in a slight thinning of his full lips, a dusky deepening of the bronzed color of his cheeks, a quirk in the black line of his brow. Navigating the tricky and dangerous waters of white-tie fundraisers was one thing, apparently, maneuvering a costume party full of relative strangers - dressed as a cartoon character, no less - clearly something else entirely. Still he recovered nicely; in a flash the expression was gone, replaced by his more characteristic aplomb. A bright smile crept over his lips as he took her hand. "In one piece, she says," he mused, a muted smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He leaned over to Zara, pressing a small kiss of temporary farewell to her cheek.
"She did an excellent job, didn't she," he said, a warm smile coloring his tone. "I admit I made the costume selection process perhaps more difficult than was necessary. I tried to coax her into letting me wear a suit and claim to be James Bond or something, but you see how well that worked." His arm slipped around her waist, his hand shifting against hers as they fell into step. His touch was carefully loose, benign; he was grateful the song she had chosen was reasonably tasteful and suitably slow. "Your costume is quite flattering as well. You've been the belle of the ball, from what I've seen."