Re: NYE: Cat & Reece
He was going to get it in the face. He knew it. Reece closed his right eye (nearest to her left hand) and half-smiled. He was still on his knees in the drifts of wet-stick snow, and his beanie was the only thing keeping all of his hair down. But, his cheeks were still ruddy and his eyes glassy and his smile easier and more sincere than ever. Even when he was about to get it in the face. Oh, God, it was going to be cold.—Reece's (real) eye dipped to the woman's hand/weapon, then back to her face. She was close enough to have his chin tipped up. He thought he could smell alcohol on her breath, but that could've just been his breath, honestly.
"Umm." Rules, right. "Yeah, the first one is no hitting Reece in the face. The second can be no hitting Cat, if you want." His smile went charming, if boozy. "I was making some for you too." He gestured to the snowballs arrayed before him artfully. And he had been. A starter set or something. "The first thing to do is to make our defenses. We can take, uh, ...five minutes to do that. Then, we battle." One more shift of his (single open) eye to that snowball.
His smile remained, clear and open and totally drunk, and, then, quite sloppily, he picked up one of his own snowballs and tried to push it into Cat's close face. There was no saying if he got it, but he managed to fall backward onto his butt and scramble to his feet. Unsteadily, he ran about a dozen feet away, almost to the end of the yard. He was so out of breath, but he just smiled and laughed like a jackass.