Auggie had to hand it to the place - for all the stuff it's pulled, making a party like this does make up for a lot. That he's been in a particularly good mood the last couple of days certainly helped a lot in him having a good time. He'd been on the island for months, and he can honestly say at this point it's been the best few days since he
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His arms wrap around her torso without a second thought, drawing her even closer to him. Over the course of the last few days, he's become well aware she has a pretty unique ability of making him completely forget about his surroundings. As it turns out, the same can be said even when they're in a middle of a party. Despite the noise around them (that's gotten a whole lot louder), he barely notices anything but her while it lasts. And even when they pull apart - barely - his focus is less on everything around them and more on her, one hand lifting to gently cup her cheek.
"Almost thought you weren't going to make it, Walker," he teases, and with their faces so close, he only needs to speak a little louder than normal.His expression softens after, leaning his forehead lightly against hers. "Happy New Year."
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"Happy New Year," she murmurs, grinning broadly as he pulls back just enough to speak. Her fingers snake around his wrist, and she can feel his pulse beneath the gentle run of her thumb, quickening as they hover in each other's space. She tilts her cheek into the touch of his hand, letting her eyes drift shut for a few more seconds, holding herself in this moment for as long as she possibly can before something happens to tear her away.
"Serves me right for going to the ladies' in this chaos," she adds, laughing quietly, pressing another quick peck to his lips before easing back down onto her heels, though she continues to stand in close next to him and along the bar, one hand taking hold of his. "And you for talking me into wearing a dress to this thing."
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He wouldn't have bothered with the vest and the overcoat and opted for just a plain white shirt had she hadn't requested otherwise. Especially now, when there's starting to be enough people in the area that it's actually getting stuffy.
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"Speaking of, you look very dashing," she adds, setting his beer down and giving his waistcoat a gentle tug, fingers slipping beneath the v-shaped opening as her knuckles brush over his chest. "But I think one or both of us might pass out from the heat if we stay inside much longer."
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An observation he very much appreciates her listening to.
"And I think I've mentioned you look beautiful," he says, without an ounce of uncertainty in the compliment. Like usual, he doesn't actually need to see her to know it - something he thinks she's learned already a long time ago. He vaguely hears the clink of his now likely empty bottle of beer being put down, but he doesn't think much of it, too distracted by the spike in his pulse when he feels her fingers brushing against him. He clears his throat a moment later, smiling a little. "You're probably right. Shall I escort you home, then?"
The far more proper choice of words is used on purpose as he offers out his elbow for her to take. If they're going to dress like this, no sense in only going halfway with it.
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"Thank you," she adds, soft and grateful, and links her arm through his, positioning them towards the way out with a small pivot of her feet. They both know the place well enough to get out without much leading either way, but with the extreme number of occupants and the slight press of bodies in either direction, leaving is going to prove somewhat disorienting.
"You shall," Annie declares, with a nod of her head, and snags their coats from where they've been resting on the seat closest to where he's been standing. It's going to be cold outside - though for how much longer, she can't tell. This might be a winter that lasts all the way into February, at this rate.
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"It's going to be fun getting out of here," he comments instead, making it pretty clear he's going to let Annie at least lead them outside. He can take it from there, when there isn't a pathway that needs to be forged through a sea of bodies. Maybe they could grab a carriage outside instead of walking in what he assumes is even colder weather, given what time it is - if they even run this late.
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"Think we can hail a carriage?" she asks, as they squeeze outside, handing him his coat to put on while she buttons up her own. It's chilly out, and she lingers close to him, glancing back and forth down the street and looking for one that appears unoccupied. It isn't a long walk back, but with the chill in the air, she'd rather avoid it.
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"Probably," he says, since he's pretty sure real people don't actually drive them, like he's pretty sure the shop keepers aren't real either. "Do you see any around?"
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"I think they drive in a loop anyway," she admits, watching as one turns the corner at the end of the street and heads straight for them, and when she reaches out with one hand to flag it down, it stops right in front of them. She smiles triumphantly and takes his hand. "Got one."
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"I think I might miss this when it's gone," he admits with a laugh, moving to the side of the entrance to the carriage, opening the door and then offering his hand to help her inside first. She's got way more clothing to stuff into the ride than he does. "After you."
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"God, I can't wait to get out of this dress," she mutters, once he's inside and the carriage starts moving again. Somehow they always seem to know where to go without anything in the way of directions. That's when the underlying meaning of her words hits her and she backpedals, clearing her throat, averting her gaze to hide the sign of heat rising in her cheeks. "Only because it might be a little difficult to sleep in."
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He doesn't need to say a single word for her to get flustered, and he doesn't bother to hide his grin when he can practically hear her blushing.
"Don't worry, you really don't need to give me any explanation of why you want out of your clothes," he says with a completely straight face, patting her knee in a teasingly comforting way - or the general area of her knee, anyway (he mostly just pats the cloth of her dress). He even manages to hold back a laugh after, no small feat considering how much he actually wants to.
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Her hand flies out to grab hold of his as he reaches down to pat her knee, miming what's supposed to be a comforting act, and in the end she manages to lace their fingers together, giving his hand a small squeeze as she keeps it in her lap, sandwiching it between the one holding on and the other that gently rests on top of his knuckles.
"I could give you an explanation," she replies, seemingly innocent as she shifts in against his side, leaning against his shoulder, turning her head to pillow her chin there as she looks up at his face. "I could give you a very long explanation for why I'm thinking about getting undressed right now."
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He takes the bait that she's dangling in front of him without a second thought after that. Without a pause, even, despite fully knowing that they're still a little ways away from their hut-now-apartment.
"Well, if you're in that sharing a mood, I'm listening," he says in a remarkably even tone, his fingers flexing a little in hers as he speaks. He doesn't try to pull it away, curious to see where she leads this, if she's leading it to anything at all.
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"I don't know," she replies, pretending to shy away from the idea, even going so far as to turn her head slightly. She can't hide behind her hair, though; she's pinned it up for the evening, even though a few stray pieces still grace her cheek as she moves. When she faces him again, the smirk is still there, and she tilts her head to rest her cheek on his shoulder, more of an innocent cuddling, almost too innocent given what she appears to have stirred.
"I've always been more of a show-er instead of a tell-er," she murmurs, turning his hand over to let his palm face upward as her fingers trace the lifelines on the inside, running along the one that dissolves into his wrist, a slow, repetitive movement.
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