She liked gin. Ford beamed, taking this as a personal affirmation. He made a note of the flavors she said she liked, though when it was likely to come up again was anyone's guess. He wasn't often in the position to be procuring drinks for young women (though perhaps he might find himself in that position, if he made a point to be in her company more often moving forward? — except, wait, he wasn't actually in love with her).

Miss Chang was berating herself, and Ford shook his head emphatically. Her cheeks were a little red but she still looked lovely. If anything, the added color only served to make her more animated, and consequently more appealing. And as far as her not usually being like this, he hardly knew what she meant. Aside from having frowned at him a moment ago, she'd been the picture of wit and charm tonight, as far as he was concerned. "You don't need to apologize," he assured her. "I —"

He had begun before he knew how he meant to finish the sentence, and now he wasn't sure what to say. I'm enjoying our time together felt both too earnest and too bland; it said nothing and in saying nothing let on that he was an inarticulate mess on the inside. I really like you was what came to mind next, but that was even worse. He could switch tracks and start the sentence with you, but then the only thing that came to mind was you're lovely and she was bound to find that suspicious. It was true, but it was the sort of thing one had to build up to.

"— I'm feeling a little out of sorts, too," was what he said, although it wasn't at all what he'd wanted to say. They were still in the ballroom, though; maybe by the time they'd reached the garden and the fresh air he'd have thought up some non-conspicuous way to tell her how charming she was, instead of just talking about himself.

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