[for romain]

[umbralla]

[It's not hard to find Ghyslain when he's not in class or the dorms - he doesn't go out a lot, and when there aren't classes in the music room, he'll most likely be there. How often do you find a giant grand piano to play, after all? Even his family had a much smaller one, slightly out of tune, which grated on someone with such a natural ear when he came back from lessons and had to practice on it.

Today he's playing something he remembers his older sister listening to; not his kind of music, but the musician was damn good on piano, so the melodies stick out and he picks them out when he hasn't got a song in mind. It's slow at first, then picks up to the actual speed of the song, light and flourishing.

He's clearly in his own world, pale eyes dreamy and head swaying back and forth. In a soft, deep voice, he tries to translate the lyrics he can remember, but they come without scansion and rhyme because it's so off the top of his head.]

Comments

[umbralla]

I could call a taxi, but we would be seen.

[He stands up, wavers a bit, then offers Romain a hand. Just to help him up if he's unsteady. That's all.]

It is best if we walk. The night air will help.

[quantities]

[Without hesitation, he takes the hand, stumbling a bit to get on his feet. It's a huge adjustment from being sat down to being upright. Balance, don't fail me now.]

How much is everything?

[umbralla]

[He leads Romain gently over to the front with a hand on his back - just a drunk friend supporting another, no more pressure or grip than that. The waitress smiles at them as she divides the bill, mouthing BIAPA to the bartender beside her, and they both giggle quietly.]

Ah, merci. Thank you. [He nods when his end is paid up, card and receipt handed back, and by all signs, he is blissfully unaware that there's a good deal of admiration in the looks from the waitress and bartender. They're not just laughing at these two drunk young men, they're quite taken.]

[quantities]

[Romain isn't nearly as clueless, smiling right back at them. How can he not? Alcohol makes all kinds of attention even more appreciated, and takes away any of the humility that tells him not to overdo it. They're great. Ghyslain is great. Everything's great.]

Thanks. Have a great evening, ladies.

[Just greaaaaaat.

With a quick nod at them he takes back his card, without even noticing that in one of the receipts the bartender slipped another small paper with a number. He just shoves everything in his pocket and walks on out with his buddy.

ANOTHER TIME SKIP!?!?]

[umbralla]

[SURE!!!!

They get to his room first, just happenstance of the dorm layouts, and Ghyslain has a shadow arm wrapped around Romain by that point to keep him steady. He's slightly less drunk, by some miracle (or maybe he was drinking more slowly), so he's the support between the two of them - he's also slightly taller, so it works well.

He could fall asleep right away, too. But he doesn't want this to be over yet. How can he work this so that it doesn't sound awkward or inappropriate?]

I - I have water. Bottles. Peut-être tu voudrais un peu, pour le gueule de bois? You can take back with you, or...

[What was Romain saying about charm? He's blowing it here.]

[quantities]

Mm?

[He might as well be asleep standing. He doesn't even mind the shadow arm anymore.]

Yeah, sure. Mouais.

[lead the way.]

[umbralla]

Ah. Bien.

[Okay.

He opens the door and guides Romain in, easing him down to sit on the edge of the bed. Without watching to see if he'll just tip over, he goes to the small fridge and grabs two bottles of water, then turns around. There's something very antsy about him, but not eager; he wouldn't dream of taking advantage of a situation like this.]