stephanie nashton does it all (forthem) wrote in rooms,
corner couch: steph/banner.
There were rare moments throughout the night where Eddie and Stephanie weren't all over each other, and she used those opportunities to make rounds around the party. Chat with her friends from the VA or grab another drink or nibble on some of the food being passed around. She tried to enjoy the party at large, and it was clear to anyone who caught a glimpse of the bride that night that she was having one of the best times of her life. Those who had seen Steph in the last few months probably would not recognize the blonde beaming tonight. She was blissfully in love and happy and joyful in a way that nearly seemed impossible when she checked into that psych ward more than a month beforehand.
Any sort of unfamiliar faces, the few that might be there, were quickly prodded and greeted. She knew most of the people there, vaguely at least, and if she hadn't spoken to them face-to-face before, she'd definitely at least tried by now to meet everyone and bother them into chatting with her for a little bit. She was tipsy by this point, purple-green stained tongue indicative of the margaritas in her system, and she held a pretty purple one on her hand as she wandered over to one of the quieter (if that was even possible) towards an unfamiliar sort of wallflower keeping to himself. She detoured at the cupcakes, grabbed a green one with cute little baubles, and beelined towards the slightly frumpy man. "You," the bride almost accused with the tiniest slur as she walked up to the couch, "must be the good doctor. Hi." She grinned, holding out the cupcake. "You're the only person I haven't met yet."