She's an open book. She thinks she's darling, because of her dress and her face and the fact half the room is following her every move, wether with jealous hate or desperate longings or giddy youth. She thinks that means she is a queen even at a party that is not being thrown for her.
He already had two people stroking their own ego's over his existence as though he was a prize they'd won. A dapper young man of grace with nothing but trust in their intentions. He doesn't need a vapid debutaunt, with far too much perfume, and not near enough to cover the scent of her rushing blood, as well.
If she's the queen, what happens here will define him in the eyes of every other little twittering youth of either sex in the room. And she's already daring him not to.
His hand doesn't rise. "We haven't."
The same futile tone. As though her statement had been a question he was saying was correct, even though it was apparent what she'd asked was a polite request to be. Even as a man to his left gasped slightly, at the last second, uncaring of the ruse, Edward's eyes, narrowed, cut a glance to the left of all three of them (to where Esme had said sighed, and Carlisle had thought his name).
And still he couldn't vanish from where he was standing.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2010-09-24 03:11 pm (UTC)He already had two people stroking their own ego's over his existence as though he was a prize they'd won. A dapper young man of grace with nothing but trust in their intentions. He doesn't need a vapid debutaunt, with far too much perfume, and not near enough to cover the scent of her rushing blood, as well.
If she's the queen, what happens here will define him in the eyes of every other little twittering youth of either sex in the room. And she's already daring him not to.
His hand doesn't rise. "We haven't."
The same futile tone. As though her statement had been a question he was saying was correct, even though it was apparent what she'd asked was a polite request to be. Even as a man to his left gasped slightly, at the last second, uncaring of the ruse, Edward's eyes, narrowed, cut a glance to the left of all three of them (to where Esme had said sighed, and Carlisle had thought his name).
And still he couldn't vanish from where he was standing.