He'd been right to hesitate, because there was the confirmation, read between the lines: she would subject herself to this for his sake. Angelica once again offering to become a martyr for the cause of his happiness. And once again jumping to conclusions about what his happiness entailed. Emrys crossed his arms over his chest, visibly uncomfortable. He wasn't surprised he'd made the short list for the hosts when they chose their invitees for the night, because he had run in these sorts of circles for long enough. He'd even slept with more than one of the guests in attendance tonight. That didn't make this some integral part of his character... but he didn't know how to communicate that to her without admitting to too much of his past, too much of himself.

"We don't have to go to these parties," he said, echoing his earlier words while he struggled to find his next ones. There was the assumption underlying her offer that he didn't like, the implication about what sort of person he was that spoke to a fundamental misunderstanding. He didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to open a conversation that long and fraught and emotionally draining, but he also seemed incapable of entirely ignoring it when he responded. "Sleeping with other people isn't going to fix us."

---