"Handcuffs. Right." No longer was it a pretty blush, but a full burn of crimson. Amélie wasn't sure how she was meant to feel. This...this was never easy. Not when it came to the man before her. "Sticking to the theme. Very... on brand for a Valentine’s fundraiser," she managed barely, voice hitching an octave. "And I wasn't jinxing it, not intentionally...anyways. I was, y'know....well, merely performing a risk assessment." Hand sweeping out. "It’s what I do. I assess, categorize, prepare for the structural failure of the evening so that when it happens, I can say I saw it coming and get the hell outta' dodge."
She was half-joking, half not.
Gideon had an ability most did not: the way he could calm her pulse down if he so wished, but also the inability to stop the racing thoughts that currently negated that. So many memories were clutching at the edges of her mind, and she did her best to push them back. A smile painted tight.
Two years, and still...not enough time had passed to erase that mark. Had it been branded with fire? And if so, would the scare remain forever? While Amélie wasn't mad at Gideon anymore, she still had this tinge that had been left behind. Pain, it never truly went away.
And pain demanded to be felt.
Amélie's gaze followed the lead of his hand. Amélie remembered his hands well, and like a reminder, a memory — where she'd used to be filled by his touch, and the vacuum of it felt heavier with each passing second.
"A drink. Yes. A drink is... uh, sure...we can, let's — go," babbling while her feet were already moving. Like she could still shut her brain off in his presence, even if the room was crawling with the...others. She felt like a small boat being towed into a harbor by a very handsome, very dangerous tugboat. "And as for the dates... I uh, well...I don't want to go too far from here...y'know...but I might dip my toes into a surrounding, close trip away..." She'd never been fond of travelling far, scared of planes. And frankly? Change. "I just don't wanna not try anything...be so closed off."
Amélie didn't give more than that away, eyes looking at every passing face now but his. "And you?" Because she didn't wish to see his expression when he answered. Did she even want to know? "Already made up your mind? ..." — was he even still single? That sent a sharp, twisting sensation through her chest.