( quinn's reassurances only get a noncommittal scoff in response as his eyes scan the crowd, seek something -- someone else to look at. he's happy to fawn over her, ogle her freely, feed her ego at any other given moment, but tonight? tonight felt different - like he'd lost a battle he didn't realize he was a part of. it's not even the fact that he did mess up onstage, considering he's done it loads of times. it's mostly the deep bruise on his ego that she put there without hesitation, caused his brain to virtually short circuit, caused him to make a bloody fool of himself. perhaps it's egocentric of him to think more of himself rather than the quality of the show, but it is what it is.
besides, her reassurances feel fake, just one more part of her plan to throw him off of his game tonight. any other night, he messes up a single note and she's all but chewing his head off, glaring at him and whispering in his ear how completely replaceable he is and how he's going to ruin everything they've accomplished. and still, somehow, he prefers that over these niceties, though that may also have to do with the fact that when she is blatantly angry with him, it usually results in him proving to her just how much she needs him, one way or another.
his efforts at locating some sort of distraction prove to be for naught when her hand so easily pulls the bottle from his hand, his head turning to follow its path into her grasp. could almost let out a bitter laugh when she asks permission, as though he hasn't done the same to her drinks before, as though his tongue hasn't been in her mouth what must be hundreds of times by now. instead, he gives a shrug of his shoulders, a short, ) By all means.
( but she's already drinking and gideon's already back to staring, predictably, as her lips wrap around the lip of the bottle and stay there for what feels like an honest to god eternity until she's tipping the bottle back in his direction. to say that he's tense as he takes the beer back from her, painfully aware of the small gap of space between her hip and his, would be the understatement of the century. )
May dip out early tonight. You're more than welcome to join me, if you'd like. ( which hopefully doesn't sound desperate -- he's anything but, obviously. he could grab the hand of any girl at this stupid afterparty and leave with her, and do it without feeling disappointed that she isn't the devilishly coy blonde that's tormented him all evening. that's what he keeps telling himself. )
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besides, her reassurances feel fake, just one more part of her plan to throw him off of his game tonight. any other night, he messes up a single note and she's all but chewing his head off, glaring at him and whispering in his ear how completely replaceable he is and how he's going to ruin everything they've accomplished. and still, somehow, he prefers that over these niceties, though that may also have to do with the fact that when she is blatantly angry with him, it usually results in him proving to her just how much she needs him, one way or another.
his efforts at locating some sort of distraction prove to be for naught when her hand so easily pulls the bottle from his hand, his head turning to follow its path into her grasp. could almost let out a bitter laugh when she asks permission, as though he hasn't done the same to her drinks before, as though his tongue hasn't been in her mouth what must be hundreds of times by now. instead, he gives a shrug of his shoulders, a short, ) By all means.
( but she's already drinking and gideon's already back to staring, predictably, as her lips wrap around the lip of the bottle and stay there for what feels like an honest to god eternity until she's tipping the bottle back in his direction. to say that he's tense as he takes the beer back from her, painfully aware of the small gap of space between her hip and his, would be the understatement of the century. )
May dip out early tonight. You're more than welcome to join me, if you'd like. ( which hopefully doesn't sound desperate -- he's anything but, obviously. he could grab the hand of any girl at this stupid afterparty and leave with her, and do it without feeling disappointed that she isn't the devilishly coy blonde that's tormented him all evening. that's what he keeps telling himself. )