The small girl was a drinker, Paris was reminded that when she took a few more sips of her alcohol. He wouldn't have been indulging, had he been in her shoes. He supposed it was just one of those party things.
"Oh, okay. That's cool, so do they have one of those types of rooms down at the school?" Paris raised up a hand, rebuffing Chuck's offer casually. Paris watched Chuck for a second, looking right through him. Picking up two bottles at once seemed suggestive of something amiss, somehow. But Paris stopped thinking about that and glanced around. He swore there were somehow less people around then there'd been just a moment ago.
"This corner of the party's quiet... Well, I mean. Besides the music." Paris chuckled and nodded at the other two, at once. "Neither of you are dancers, then?"
It was a weird mental image, actually, imagining either of them busting out the moves. Pretty funny, actually. If he sniffed out Maxwell or Clio, wherever either of them had evaporated off to, he'd have to share the joke. Where had they gone, anyways? Paris swore they'd been near only a moment ago, last he'd been paying attention.
((Paris Ardennes continued in The Crow and the Pitcher))