as written by Script
Far from responding with either anger or upset, Élisabeth's smirk only grew as Celeste fired back at her. The insults might have struck home on a weaker girl, but Élisabeth's insecurities were ensconced enough in layers upon layers of self-assured narcissism that regardless of any truth behind Celeste's words, they didn't give her a moment's pause.
She laughed, equal parts melodiously and derisively, apparently well and truly tickled by the proselyte's comeback. Really though. Élisa pitied Celeste's attempts at rattling her. Using her to get to her father? Who? The twins were more wealthy than him by a longshot already, and had absolutely no vested interests in influencing the church. And Arien had only arrived in Lutetia weeks ago. She'd had to explain to him what being the archbishop meant!
As far as what she wore? Élisa was confident she could wrap a man around her little finger whilst wearing grey-brown overalls and last night's makeup. But she enjoyed making people stare. So yes, maybe it was for attention. But it was far from a need. She had nothing to be ashamed of there.
No, it had just been the knee-jerk defence of a girl who was envious of what Élisabeth had. Influence and looks. Poor thing. It was almost sad.
Though poised to retort once more, her good humour was cut short by a yell that shocked her into startled silence. Élisabeth turned to face Nox with surprise, her composure slipping in the face of the cold fury radiating from him.
Rei's pep-talk - directed as it was primarily at Jimmy - washed over her entirely, barely registering in the wake of that yell.
Before the argument could continue any further, or Nox could get any further enraged, Arien stepped in. The teen had risen from his seat without so much as a backward glance at Pierette, and now he placed a careful hand on both Celeste and Élisabeth's arms. Applying a gentle push of his magic, he subtly nudged away any residual anger, irritation and hurt, as though the moment of stunned silence in the wake of Malcolm's shout had been enough to allow them to relax and remember why they were here: to have fun. He then turned the same push on Jimmy, catching the proselyte's eyes with his own deep emerald orbs and smiling.
"Enough," he said gently, to them all. "Like Rei says, we're all here to have a good time, aren't we? Let's not ruin that by getting into things like this. Worries and regrets can wait. Tonight is just for the here, and the now."
Élisa, already the least invested in the argument despite being the one to have escalated it, was more than happy to acquiesce. She nodded her head, relaxing and regaining her composure in the wake of Nox's shout. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry." It was left deliberately unclear whether that apology was directed at Celeste or Arien, but it definitely could have been meant for the girl. That was what mattered, right?
Arien, in the meanwhile, had turned his attention onto Rei. If Aurelie had spoken the truth, then this girl knew the monster she was leaning onto so affectionately. Was she mad, stupid, or both?
____
In the meantime, both Alveré and Valère had shot Nox matching glares upon his outburst, but neither moved to get involved. Inarin practically wilted. As Arien moved forwards, Valère took hold of Inarin's hand, "Come on," he said, "Arien will deal with it."
Inarin nodded his head. Arien could certainly handle things there, while he ...
... danced? Oh Elueu, what had he gotten himself into?
The twins converged as they departed the VIP section with Inarin and Aurelie, just as Rei was launching into her speech, and headed towards the crowd of dancers. They wove through the press of bodies with practised ease, as the air grew thick and warm with sweat, alcohol and hormones.
Inarin let Valère lead him through the crowd, and inwardly he wondered at why he wasn't more alarmed by it. There were so many people. All packed together, bumping against him and each other, barely even looking at him. He'd never been in a crowd like this before, and it seemed like the sort of thing that he'd have expected to make him nervous. It seemed to have a life of its own, independent of the individuals within it. A heartbeat that moved in time with the music, which grew louder with every step they took closer to its source. But his brain was still fuzzy with alcohol (he'd only had one drink, hadn't he?) and he simply allowed himself to be drawn into that beating heart without complaint.
He was peripherally aware of Alveré and Aurelie close by. How the twins managed to avoid being separated in this throng was beyond him, but he supposed that they were used to this sort of thing. He called out to ask just how much longer they were going to wade through the crowd, but the music was too loud for words now that weren't yelled directly into an ear. His chest vibrated with every pulse of the bass.
And then, suddenly, they had some breathing room. Not a lot, but somehow the twins had found a pocket in the crowd where they weren't pressed as tightly. Maybe they'd just elbowed away the other dancers - Inarin wasn't sure he'd have noticed, between the music and the flashing strobe lights. He could see the DJ from here - she was only a few metres away, up behind her equipment, barely a half dozen rows of people between them and her.
As Valère finally turned to face him, he smiled nervously up at him, mouthing 'Now what?'
Aurelie and Alveré were behind him, as far as he could tell. Even with separate dance partners, it seemed that the twins wanted to keep within one another's line of sight. He thought he saw Valère exchange a devilish grin with someone over his shoulder, that he assumed was the other brother.
Valère's reply was brief. He pulled the young proselyte in closer, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy and leaning down to speak into his ear. "Just follow my lead."
And so he did. It would have been nice to be able to say that it was all suddenly easy, but it wasn't. His movements were awkward and uncertain, even led as he was by Valère. But the older boy seemed willing to put up with him, and slowly he felt like he was getting the hang of it. There wasn't all that much to it. There were no steps to follow, no elaborate motions. It was as simple as moving along with the beat - the important part was just committing to it, being confident.
So yeah. Not easy.
As he got into the swing of things and regained awareness of anything beyond keeping track of his movement, he became very suddenly aware of how closely Valère was pressed against him. His cheeks grew red, and he faltered. This was wrong. Proselytes weren't supposed to do things like this. Not with anyone.
Certainly not with another boy.
His conflict must have shown on his face, because Valère leaned in again, much to Inarin's dismay. "What's wrong?" he asked, his breath hot on Inarin's ear. He sounded genuinely concerned.
"I... this isn't... I don't ..." Words, as ever, failed him when he searched for them. Arguments welled up in his chest like water pressing against a dam. But there was something about the night that made them all seem ... feeble.
It was now or never. He should turn away, make an excuse and escape. But he didn't.
"Oh, fuck it," he blurted out, the unusual profanity feeling strange to be passing his lips, moments before he pushed them into Valère's with an entire evening's worth of clumsy, pent-up passion.
In the meantime, Alveré had engaged Aurelie in much the same way - albeit with less impromptu smooching. He was proving himself quite the capable dancer, easily keeping pace with a partner as experienced as Aurelie no doubt was. Of course, it was far from the elegance of his dance lessons, but there was still a certain grace to his dancing.
Insofar as bumping and grinding can be graceful.
"Looks like Val's got his hands full," he leaned forwards to speak into Aurelie's ear with a grin, turning them so that she could catch a glimpse of the scene unfolding beside them.
