It was a few moments before Nick caught himself leaning forward subconsciously, both interested and a little saddened by Lavender's story. What had happened to her was horrible. He didn't necessarily feel sorry for her, because she'd survived, but it had changed her life. Presented her with challenges most would never have to face. Made even simple things difficult because of the way the world felt about people like her. And maybe she'd dwelt on it some, but Nick couldn't blame her. But then she went and spilled wine down her front and shocked him out of his seeming stupor. He startled, suddenly sitting back and almost smiling at her outburst. As she bolted for her room, Nick went back to eating slowly. There came a point when he couldn't resist looking in the direction of her bedroom and he nearly dropped his fork.
She'd left the door open slightly and he caught a glimpse - more than a glimpse - of bright pink and straps and bare skin and mon dieu. His cheeks were burning by the time he ducked his head, heart beating a staccato rhythm against his ribs. He hadn't meant to see anything and he knew Lavender hadn't seen him.
When Lavender returned, he had to clear his throat and couldn't look at her right away, but managed a smile.
"It's no problem," he said quietly. "That color looks...very pretty on you."