[There's the swish of velvet curtains, her fingers resting on the rim of her emptied glass, about to signal for another when she finds herself suddenly presented with a guest. She must be intoxicated herself, or else the mild heat of alcohol without having had supper is quicker-acting than previously thought, because she is not exactly put out by his sudden appearance. Rather, she is delighted when presented with another tall drink, and hides a smile behind the curl of her hand, amused at his audacity as much as the sense of childlike earnesty on his features.]
Evening.
[She takes a long drink, the miracle liquor already beginning to haze her sour thoughts of resentment towards her husband quite pleasantly. She lacks all of the sharp sarcasm of her dear golfing companion, but Jordan is unfortunately absent, and Daisy answers him with plainest innocence, a sense of genuine curiosity in her tone.]
It's awfully early to be drinking, isn't it?
[She asks with a gesturing nod of her head, her face tipping slightly too much forward, so that she almost dips back into her own glass. Perhaps she has drunk a little much herself, her second sweet champagne halfway vanished already. She never had much of a taste for it before, not so much enjoying the innate flavors—but marriage had given her a craving for the stuff, even before ascending to the altar. Terrible habit, and the seaside city just seems to further feed the appetites of its wicked inhabitants.]
no subject
Evening.
[She takes a long drink, the miracle liquor already beginning to haze her sour thoughts of resentment towards her husband quite pleasantly. She lacks all of the sharp sarcasm of her dear golfing companion, but Jordan is unfortunately absent, and Daisy answers him with plainest innocence, a sense of genuine curiosity in her tone.]
It's awfully early to be drinking, isn't it?
[She asks with a gesturing nod of her head, her face tipping slightly too much forward, so that she almost dips back into her own glass. Perhaps she has drunk a little much herself, her second sweet champagne halfway vanished already. She never had much of a taste for it before, not so much enjoying the innate flavors—but marriage had given her a craving for the stuff, even before ascending to the altar. Terrible habit, and the seaside city just seems to further feed the appetites of its wicked inhabitants.]