Gathering: New Year's Eve Gala

[concierge]

The annual Nexus New Year's Eve gala began at 8 in the evening. Too grand to be contained by the lobby or dining hall, the gardens at the front of the hotel were employed, with long strings of white lights forming a twinkling canopy from the front doors all the way to the hedge maze. The weather was temperate and calm, and the night perfectly clear.

Drinks were served at various bars set up throughout the gardens and lobby, with champagne cocktails being the specialty of the night. Wheeling through the crowd was a bartender with golden cart providing warm drinks on the go: Tom and Jerrys, rum punch, negus, and Irish coffee.

Crisply-dressed wait staff wove through the collected guests with an abundance of hors d'oeuvres for all different tastes. The Bistro remained open with a limited selection of items for those who were wanting something more substantial.

Above the front doors was hung a large, gold-rimmed clock counting down the last hours, minutes, and seconds of the current year.

Comments

[aspecialkindofwoman]

"I do not remember hearing you complain," she tells him, her smile small and wry as she holds the plate again, offering him a fork. "Shall we indulge?"

[armedagainstlove]

"I think you know that I'm prone to indulgence," Athos replies wryly, given his predilection for alcohol and how it's shaped his life in the last few years. He takes the fork and cuts a piece of it, offering it out to her, first.

[aspecialkindofwoman]

Still, Anne smiles, keeping her eyes on his face as she leans in, taking the bite from the fork, letting the tines slide from her mouth slowly. The cake is ridiculously sweet by their standards. Perhaps that is why she enjoys it. Her eyes narrow in pleasure as she chews and swallows.

Then she will fork him up a piece, offering it as he did for her.

[armedagainstlove]

Athos leans forward to take the bite of cake, enjoying it and trying to savour it so he doesn't simply waste the experience. He licks his lips and lets out a pleased hum, taking the fork to do the same to her, standing just a touch closer than before.

[aspecialkindofwoman]

There's the slightest touch of color to Anne's cheek as she feels him come closer, and takes the bite, her head back, chin up so that he can see the fine column of her neck, bisected, yes, by the choker. But this is, in her way, her offering up to him what she has: herself.