Ioan made a face. "Yeah, I've been told I talk too much after a few pints. The problem is, alcohol's like Veritaserum for me. I get three sheets and start spouting off everything I'm thinking or feeling and most of it comes out not making any sense at all."
He shrugged and guided her into another spin when the room was available. By this point, he wasn't even paying attention to the music. It could've been a polka, and he'd still have been slow-dancing with her.
"Except what I say about you, I think," he finally added, his voice thoughtful. His eyes were unreadable. "I'm pretty sure everything I've said to you has made sense, yeah?"