His arms unfolded in dramatic helplessness, giving up the pretence far too fast as she talked her way right out of that. "Mmmhmm," Tyb mumbled in response, mostly meaning I'm happy to see you too, and then merely shook his head at her, more in fondness than exasperation.
"All those rowdy quidditch players too much for you?" He guessed-but-also-teased, mimicking her hushed tone as he took a pace or two closer, a corner of his mouth upturned. All those quidditch players in one room might be too much for anyone, really, and that was before one even accounted for the end-of-the-season feeling. Merlin, Elsie's cousin and her husband were rather miraculous beings to even be hosting such a thing. Of course, he supposed if anyone had earned the respect of the entire professional league, it really ought to be Mr. Cavanaugh, for being in charge of all the sports administration there was. Also, they seemed rather good at throwing parties.
Fun as the party was, Tybalt couldn't say he was finding himself particularly torn about where to spend the next part of the night - party, what party? Disappointed as he would be if Elsie decided to use this breather to crack open a book as she had probably planned, he had already resigned himself to collapsing into a chair himself and perhaps riffling through one himself while she did. But, on the other hand... "Good thing I can be quiet," he pronounced proudly, looking down at her through his eyelashes in feigned innocence, though the next moment he flicked at some of the beading on the bodice of her dress, because he just couldn't resist. That said, it was a pretty dress. A terribly pretty dress.
"All those rowdy quidditch players too much for you?" He guessed-but-also-teased, mimicking her hushed tone as he took a pace or two closer, a corner of his mouth upturned. All those quidditch players in one room might be too much for anyone, really, and that was before one even accounted for the end-of-the-season feeling. Merlin, Elsie's cousin and her husband were rather miraculous beings to even be hosting such a thing. Of course, he supposed if anyone had earned the respect of the entire professional league, it really ought to be Mr. Cavanaugh, for being in charge of all the sports administration there was. Also, they seemed rather good at throwing parties.
Fun as the party was, Tybalt couldn't say he was finding himself particularly torn about where to spend the next part of the night - party, what party? Disappointed as he would be if Elsie decided to use this breather to crack open a book as she had probably planned, he had already resigned himself to collapsing into a chair himself and perhaps riffling through one himself while she did. But, on the other hand... "Good thing I can be quiet," he pronounced proudly, looking down at her through his eyelashes in feigned innocence, though the next moment he flicked at some of the beading on the bodice of her dress, because he just couldn't resist. That said, it was a pretty dress. A terribly pretty dress.
