Valerian made eye contact with man the moment his hand grabbed the bottle, and the corner of his mouth slid up in thanks. "Don't worry—this is only my second glass," he explained, taking note of the name Greengrass. It was one of those old wizarding families, but beyond his cousin's husband he didn't think he'd ever met one of them before. He turned the bottle around in his hand, checking to see the name of it; they kept plenty of wines and liquors at home, but Valerian was always eager to get his hands on whatever new variety the club had imported.
"Macnair," he said, uncorking the bottle so he could top off his own glass before it ran dry. "Valerian Macnair. And don't worry—I couldn't plan to meet with anyone even if I tried." And he had tried, plenty of times before. Back when he was younger and more socially-inclined, he'd tried to schedule nights with his friends only to be kept at the hospital a little too late to enjoy himself when he arrived.
"And what what you? Waiting for someone or simply enjoying the atmosphere?" He held up his glass and moved it in a swirling motion to indicate his meaning.
"Macnair," he said, uncorking the bottle so he could top off his own glass before it ran dry. "Valerian Macnair. And don't worry—I couldn't plan to meet with anyone even if I tried." And he had tried, plenty of times before. Back when he was younger and more socially-inclined, he'd tried to schedule nights with his friends only to be kept at the hospital a little too late to enjoy himself when he arrived.
"And what what you? Waiting for someone or simply enjoying the atmosphere?" He held up his glass and moved it in a swirling motion to indicate his meaning.
