the Ball Room
3rd of Loshis, 2719
Ezre smiled, chuckling almost shyly at her retort about confisalto, nodding his head in a very obvious mockery of well-calculated agreement even though it was clear by his expression that he knew it was all a joke. The motion couldn't entirely disguise his lingering glance over the meticulous details of her dress, however, and once she took his queue and they made their way to join the other faculty and staff already moving to the music across the dance floor.
It was not a slow song, but one instead that required them both to keep up with the melody. There would be some switching of partners it seemed, in order to keep things as innocuous as possible he assumed, but for a few moments, there was a bit of filler music in order to allow everyone to find their places. Lilanee giggled and smiled at him, although once their hands were properly arranged and their bodies were moving as they should, hers felt lighter, somewhat off-kilter as if she was nervous and the Hoxian would have wondered if perhaps he was doing something wrong a second time out loud had she not assured him.
"I am also fine. Quite fine. We will just see how things go."
Oh, he grinned again, dark eyes studying her face in their vicinity as she'd chosen not to wear her glasses and here he was close enough to her face to meet her pale gaze. While he was aware her vision was not as perfect as his own, her eyes were crisp and clear and so very bright blue, complimented by the freckled, tanned hue of her Hessean heritage-born skin. Dark eyes darted away from her face because surely she would notice him staring, Ezre taking stock of their dancing peers and navigating them toward a collection of other dancers because the music was definitely leading them toward a change soon.
He should have had regrets about that second glass of wine, but everything simply felt more comfortable, and he felt lighter on his feet than he was already. It was nothing like chan, which was a far more introspective sort of intoxication, as the effects of alcohol seemed to make everything more agreeable, social situations like this one suddenly not at all intimidating, and perspectives on things feel just that much more pleasant. Soft around the edges, like the way his field felt mingled with his friend's.
Friend, yes. He wouldn't have known that the gregarious lowering of inhibitions and the sudden warm sense of abundant humor would be called a buzz until later, but for now, he couldn't help but enjoy it.
"Boha sound of surprise or concern—isolation is indeed an understatement, and I—"
Blinking, he slowly returned his attention back to Lilanee as she spoke so intriguingly of jaw structure (he didn't miss her eyes moving over the landscape of his face), genetic isolation (had she known just how isolated his particular people were in Kzecka, would this have interested her further?), and—by the molten heat of Vroh Guar her hand moved! Her fingers were on his throat with a featherlight gentleness and his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, delicate lips parted just enough for a quick inhale. His eyes widened and she surely could feel just how suddenly his pulse picked up beneath her touch, and he tried very hard to keep them in rhythm, to keep their bodies in proper form, hand at her waist slipping for the briefest of moments and field faltering even though his feet moved exactly as they were expected to. They just felt heavier and his knees felt weaker, especially once her fingers drifted upward—
"—zjai, but—oh—"
He was blushing. Fire spread beneath his golden skin and he was sure he'd never been so aware of precisely the exact amount of space his lithe body occupied, precisely how much of the atmosphere his physical self displaced in all of Vita. Could she feel the change in bodily temperature her touch had so involuntarily produced? Did she notice the dilation of his pupils as he attempted to focus? Could she hear the rush of his heartbeat as it picked up tempo and thrummed so loudly in all of his senses?
She must have, for the Hessean's hand drew away and settled back on his shoulder, and he swallowed whatever words he might have had, suddenly also very sure he knew the exact location of this vocal fold. Lilanee's touch had been unexpected but not unwelcome, and that realization drifted through his thoughts like they drifted over the dance floor. Was he disappointed she'd realized her mistake or was that the First Light making him far less inhibited in public than usual?
"Vumein." He grounded himself again with Deftung, the familiar language rolling off his tongue and unraveling the knot that had been tied there by her fingers against his skin, "It simply means miss in Deftung. It is a term of formal respect. The masculine is vumash. I—uh—it is not anything insulting. If you—if you do not like it, I will stop, Lilanee." She was smiling at him, and it was so very teasing that he almost forgot how to talk again, that fluttering against his sternum swift and fierce, that warmth racing beneath his skin reminding him of their proximity,
"Ah—yes, I am Hexxos." He shifted their bodies, weaving them between a few other dancing couples. Out of the blurred corner of his dark-eyed gaze, he was quite sure he caught a glimpse of students he knew. Or perhaps it was a mistake, "Like the Everine, it is a religious order of sorts, but—wait—"
He'd not been paying enough attention to the shifts in the song, the musical signals that would have otherwise made sure he knew it was time to change partners. The dark-haired boy felt dizzy, disconnected from his ability to properly reason, giddily distracted by the way the young Hessean woman's lips moved when she formed words—so many words—into questions. Ezre had thought to skip the first shift of partners, hoping to just ignore it in favor of answering Lilanee, but instead he was forced to let go by the sweep of other dancers and a cold hand gripped his far too tightly.
The Hoxian felt their mingled fields separate as they were pulled in opposite directions, an untangling of something comfortable leaving him feeling almost instantly colder. Then again, it could have been the sudden imposition of Marissa's forceful aura. Her sudden proximity and wicked grin caught him off-guard, the touch of her hands unwelcome and the dark-haired boy's stomach turned, a flash of memory of the drowned man's face from Ghost Town flooding his vision as his body tensed involuntarily.
Ezre hissed at the step on his toe, attention focusing on the face of Marissa as he pulsed his field in annoyance, any flustered rush of excitement draining from his expression as it settled into a deadpan glare. In order to not draw any particular attention to his discomfort or to the situation, the boy continued to move with all the grace he had before, perhaps with far sharper, overemphasized motions as if to signal his displeasure, "My physical prowess is not one to be underestimated, but I think you are already aware of that. I have no interest in observing you or your poor excuses for accomplices with—as far as I can tell—purely sexual benefits get guttered for fun in the Stacks. From the smell of things, you have certainly had enough already."
Ezre's dark gaze shifted to Janse for emphasis, attempting to also make eye contact with Lilanee in an almost protective fashion before he was forced to turn away with the tide of the other dancers in order to keep in proper step and not draw attention to themselves. He let his attention mercilessly fall back on Marissa, emboldened by the slight level of intoxication he'd not entirely realized he'd fallen into himself,
"I find it shocking that someone who clearly has no boundaries with her own mouth, especially when it involves others, has the gall to comment on what an intelligent young woman speaks about at all. I recommend you learn first to keep your tongue to yourself—especially considering boys like Janse are probably not familiar with the concept of fidelity in a relationship—before saying a word about what Miss Kuleda chooses to speak about with hers." The Hexxos acolyte let his insults drip from his delicate lips with surprising vehemence, and had he at all been in the state of mind to pay attention to just how physically-focused his verbal self-defenses were, perhaps he would have been embarrassed. Perhaps not. The Hessean's brief touch had stirred rather unexplored parts of his more animal brain, he would justify later should he remember to do so, and thus his ripostes to the Bastian were hardly intellectual.
Not that she probably understood enough, anyway.
There was another shift in the music, a hint that all dancing couples should once again separate and re-pair, and Ezre released Marissa with a politeness she did not deserve, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the dizzy flutter in his chest as he turned to see Lilanee and Janse, her hands on his chest, shoving him from her vicinity.
He was quick, made quicker by the rush of First Light-inspired bravado in his veins, leaving the other ninth form standing there staring at the dark fabric draped so gracefully over his back, the pale ivory circle of the Vks family crest embroidered in fine detail on the coat between his shoulder blades. With the soft rustle of fabric, he was careful to avoid being snagged by a passing dancer, quick to end up next to the red-head, turning to put himself between her and Janse while the a few students glanced at them, stared at them, giggled at whatever was happening on the dance floor while they all floated by to the tempo set by the musicians,
"We have made a very cursory and valiant attempt at proper, expected socializing." He whispered to Lilanee, ignoring the young man completely instead of even offering him the same pleasure of a snide remark he'd given Marissa, "But as usual, I have found it has left me disappointed on so many levels."
Dark eyes flicked toward Janse then, and much as he had in Ghost Town with Tom Cooke, without even thinking honestly, his tattooed fingers reached out to tangle with hers, warm palm secure in holding the Hessean's hand as he foolishly faced down some danger he knew even less about than restless spirits: his Anaxi peers,
"We should get out of the way of other dancers." He bobbed his head at a passing couple—Professor Crendula of Anatomical Studies and his wife, the concern clear on their faces—tugging gently on the young woman's hand to lead them away from the annoyance of their attempted bullies and back toward their table out of instinct. He was only a few steps away from their seats when he made eye contact with the judgmental glare of Professor Holly, whom he had great respect for in the classroom but now found himself with personal doubts about her integrity of character.
Too close, too full of adrenaline and alcohol, Ezre changed direction more with his body than with just his feet, brushing against Lilanee with an involuntary sigh, wide eyes meeting her blue gaze, "I do not wish to stay for dinner, but I think I would prefer to eat elsewhere in your company."
It was so very forward—an edge of both possessive protectiveness for one of the few people on campus he felt as though he could have a comfortable conversation with and also honest overwhelm at the thought of having to deal with an evening of harassment—but the dark-haired boy did not want to end their evening prematurely when he had nowhere else to go but home to Po and probably chan alone. He lingered in proximity, the tumultuous rhythm of his heartbeat so very loud above the Brunnhold Junior Orchestra and the voices of curiosity from their peers whispered in their vicinity,
"Have you had dsoh before? It is a Hoxian regional dish. I know somewhere in the Stacks where I guarantee even during Saint Grumbles' Feast, we will most likely not have to worry about drunk harassment. My treat."
He smiled: a strange, tingling sensation of rather emotional hopefulness warming his features.
"Speaking of my home some more as you were full of questions I am willing to answer in a timely manner—" Ezre was leading her away from their table with every intention of dragging her away from the ballroom before waiting for a response, glancing over her shoulder with a lingering look at the faces of the students who seemed so bent on causing them trouble. It was difficult to return his gaze back to her face, dark eyes traveling over her dress again while he bit his lip in thought,
"—did you know that due to a life spent almost entirely in high altitudes, the average Hoxian lung capacity is significantly higher than their sea-level dwelling Anaxi counterparts? Unlike Giorans and their echo casting techniques, Hoxian native spellwork and song both rely on very sustained sounds."
Rainy season meant that the exits to nearly every building in Brunnhold were well-stocked with green umbrellas free for faculty and student use, the ubiquitous things wordlessly put out by Gated passives at the first drop of rain and left out everywhere in the red-walled university’s campus. First, however, the pair had to make their way through what was left of the festive crowd of mostly mandatory staff attendees and rules-bound younger students and out of the doors. Given the focus on drunkenness this particular long holiday seemed to emphasize so strongly, Ezre was confident finding transportation would not at all be an issue, but he was also so full of a most unexpected but pleasant sort of bravado that far more seemed possible than his usually very reserved self would have considered at all.