[The closest thing to a proper party he's ever been to were loud, impromptu sing-a-longs at rowdy taverns in the wee hours of the morning. An event like this, with all its elegant dress and classic dancing, feels distinctly like a place he shouldn't be making a spectacle of himself. Which, if he's honest, is what really makes him relish making a spectacle of himself.
As such, he's approaching all this with the air of a party crasher, invitation or no, which essentially means he's helping himself to as much food and punch (Maker bless the kind soul of whoever spiked it, he needed it) as he can possibly have, as soon as possible. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for everyone else, he's very much lightweight, and he's flushed a bit pink as he ducks from person to person and tray to tray, still early on in the evening.
Which is what has him eventually sidling up beside her, picking at a plate of various finger foods. He leans toward her, with a loud, conspiratorial stage whisper:]
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As such, he's approaching all this with the air of a party crasher, invitation or no, which essentially means he's helping himself to as much food and punch (Maker bless the kind soul of whoever spiked it, he needed it) as he can possibly have, as soon as possible. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for everyone else, he's very much lightweight, and he's flushed a bit pink as he ducks from person to person and tray to tray, still early on in the evening.
Which is what has him eventually sidling up beside her, picking at a plate of various finger foods. He leans toward her, with a loud, conspiratorial stage whisper:]
Now, now, that's not how it's done at all.