stephanie nashton does it all (forthem) wrote in rooms,
Re: dancefloor: eddie/steph.
Stephanie rolled her eyes at Eddie's antics, but in that infatuated sort of way that said yes, that's my man. She leaned her elbow on the lacquered wooden bar, cheek cradled in her palm as she watched Eddie demand from the bartender. Oh, she was stupidly, head-over-heels in love with him. She didn't need this day to prove it. This was just the icing on the cake. (A photographer came and snapped a picture of the couple, of Stephanie cradling her cheek with that faux frustration on her face and Eddie wiggling his eyebrows, and wasn't that a kodak moment?)
"He thinks he's British royalty all of a sudden," she told the bartender, dropping her hand down to look at them man before laughing. "Snag a good girl and it all goes to his head, huh?" A smirk crawled up her face, and the bartender pretended to care. Steph thought he just ought to care regardless. She pbbbblllltttt'd at Eddie, watching the drink get made, purple on green on purple, and turned back to her husband. "I am not a wench," she implored, tongue stuck out, before she hummed for a second. Eyebrow quirked at his mischievousness. "Hmmm, truth? I'm saving the dare. I don't trust you." She narrowed her eyes playfully, poking him in the chest, right by where that tattoo splayed over his heart.