[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/ssxt53R/Thalia-Evercrest.png[/img][/center][sub]Location: Eye of the Beholder[right]Interactions: Elio [@c3p-0h][/right][/sub][hr]
[indent]Thalia elevated one eyebrow with a hint of incredulity, her hazel gaze sharpening as a smile danced upon her lips—one that bespoke both amusement and calculation. Rather than immediately grasping the bottle before her, she allowed the raucous fervour of the tavern to fill the quiet he had so carefully established. This tactic, aged and astute, was one she had internalized during her formative years; she recognized that silence could be more powerful than spoken words, allowing her to assess the man seated across from her with discerning scrutiny.

Her attention flitted to the bottle momentarily before returning to his countenance. As she tilted her head ever so slightly, her auburn locks shimmered under the light, resembling a cascade of molten copper. [color=#663399]“How remarkably intriguing it is that this should supposedly help me, coming from an individual who appears to elevate self-interest to the status of a virtue.”[/color]

With a deepened curiosity woven into her demeanour, Thalia leaned in marginally, inviting a closer examination of his intentions. The distant laughter and raucous banter of the tavern patrons became a backdrop to their seemingly intimate exchange, emphasizing the bubble of focus they had created together. [color=#663399]“It seems,”[/color] she continued, a playful glimmer in her eyes, [color=#663399]“that your audacity knows no bounds. One might even wonder if this 'cure' is more of a mirage than a solution, crafted to ensnare the unsuspecting.”[/color] Her eyes narrowed before she added, [color=#663399]“Such as myself.”[/color]

Thalia allowed the resonance of her words to hang in the air, her gaze steadfast as she reclined slightly, reclaiming her territory with an air of nonchalant defiance. Her fingers, delicately elongated yet marked by the toil of years, traced the circumference of her scarf languidly. This purposeful gesture served as a reminder—perhaps to herself, perhaps to him—of the multifaceted layers of her identity that extended far beyond surface appearances.

Her attention was once again captivated by the bottle positioned between them, its amber luminescence presenting a tempting diversion.

However, Thalia was not one to succumb to haste, particularly in the presence of someone who evidently thrived on inciting reactions. With a subtle flick of her gaze, she surveyed his hands, the ruggedness of his knuckles and the faint scars etched into his skin that revealed a life steeped in labour. The dissonance between his casual arrogance and the signs of genuine effort piqued her curiosity more than she dared to admit. The illusion of their cocoon of intimacy continued to hold strong for her, even as the occasional approach of the innkeeper or nearby patrons brushed against their little bubble.

The redhead fervently hoped that her tight-lipped demeanour towards these intrusions would not further blemish her reputation, though the very notion filled her with hesitation, as her thoughts lingered on pride as both a shield and a chain. Eventually, she succumbed to the allure of the moment, her fingers elegantly curling around the neck of the bottle, yet she refrained from lifting it just yet.

[color=#663399]“You say that like it’s a flaw…”[/color] she replied instead, eyes honing in on him once more as if testing him. [color=#663399]“But my pride has [i]never[/i] kept me from taking what I want if it’s worth the reach.”[/color]

In one fluid motion, Thalia liberated the bottle from his grasp, her lips hovering over the opening before claiming it as her own. As the liquid courage cascaded into her mouth, its velvety richness enveloped her tongue, stirring sensations that mingled both anticipation and hesitation within her. Though the exquisite taste did not immediately fortify her resolve as she had ardently wished, the very act of indulgence was intensely captivating. She found herself revelling in it, a thrill coursing through her that was embraced rather than lamented.

Thalia placed the bottle onto the table, the resonant thunk serving as a final, emphatic exclamation to her argument. A sly smile unfurled across her lips, radiating a small measure of mirth.

[color=#663399]“So, do you still believe pride is merely a fault?”[/color][/indent]