Re: Ball: Clementine, Irene & Declan
Parties were jolly events by nature, and that really wasn't Declan's default mode, but he remembered. He remembered the glitter, the clink of wine glasses, the swish of skirts on parade of varnished dance floors. His blood remembered it, he'd inherited a fondness for the folly. He smiled due to entertainment as the pair danced prettily, and the smile only slipped when Clementine talked on. Oh, the dear sister of cardinal sins… he'd never reprimand her or disown her or attempt to run her over with a sports utility vehicle, but there was a momentary flicker of something thoughtful(maybe wounded?) in his eyes when Clementine made mention of their siblings.
"I do reckon," he reiterated, although the tone was a little bland and the charm of Southern grammatical errors were lost within his crisper pronunciation. It was far from enthusiastic, although Declan rarely was. He smiled at the pair of them before tilting his head toward the direction from whence he'd came.
"You two dance so well, I won't interrupt that and shame myself. I think I will help myself to another glass of champagne out there." And certainly enough, he turned through the doorway in quite sudden need of a drink, how he hoped for something stiffer than French bubbles.