“He loves me, he loves me not… oh.” {[ LOL drunk riza probably, who knows ]}
VALENTINES INTENSIFY… (no longer accepting!)
It doesn’t surprise him to glance over, when she says that, and find that her eyes are focused elsewhere. Doesn’t surprise him to follow her line of sight to a particular dark-haired man meandering towards the washrooms now that the drinks have run their course. Doesn’t surprise him that her cheeks are pink, her glass is empty, her fingers are trembling around the leftover Valentines petals.
It only surprises him that she would let herself go this far.
A weary affection twists his lips. Maes sighs, not unkind, and scrapes his chair out from under him. “What am I going to do with you,” he wonders. He squeezes her shoulder in a one-armed hug, picks up her coat with the other. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”