helena is possibly just as drunk as yuri. she can feel her head spinning a little, her eyes slightly heavier than usual, etc. still, she's been trying her very best to be mindful. of her circumstances, her surroundings. obviously, she's failed miserably in being mindful enough to prevent herself from acting on her stupid fucking desires, but the least she can do now is DAMAGE CONTROL. fact of the matter is, however, that drunk yuri is too cute for her (and helena's) own good. the voice, the completely not innocent glances, the red cheeks, the soft peck in the middle of conversation. helena looks down. get it together, woman.
immediately failing, she rubs her thumb on the corner of yuri's lips. the smudge was barely visible, but ever so cautious, helena thought it better to wipe it away for good. "okay, no smudges. you're good. how am i?" she double cheks, even though she's pretty sure yuri would've mentioned something if her face screamed make out. "hm, yeah, i mean, it's not like your hands weren't in my hair or something." the mental facepalm is instantaneous and helena catches herself realising she's a less self-controlled drunk than she thought she was. this is dangerous.
there she goes with the glancing again... reactive, helena's eyes find yuri's for a second before she allows them to wander down to her lips and further below before locking in on yuri's again, right in time to catch the wink. "stop it. go. now. before i keep you for god knows how much longer and then our story will have to get more and more elaborate..." what helena wants to do? reach her hand out to grab yuri by the shirt. what she does instead? makes a shooing motion with her hand, as if she's talking to a puppy. not very cutesy.