[As she talks, Henry stills his leg and pets the portion of Maketh's arm looped through his. Dorian, he thinks, has a point. And more to say--
He blinks slowly. Henry then bumps his thigh against Dorian's.]
Inestimable, I am certain.
[He takes the bottle, and pours for both himself and Maketh.]
A toast is in order. To fine friends! And-- [He cannot hold back his amusement here, though really he should know better than to try to drink while on the verge of laughter.] --prospects!
[It will be a miracle if he's not crawling home by the end of the night.]
no subject
He blinks slowly. Henry then bumps his thigh against Dorian's.]
Inestimable, I am certain.
[He takes the bottle, and pours for both himself and Maketh.]
A toast is in order. To fine friends! And-- [He cannot hold back his amusement here, though really he should know better than to try to drink while on the verge of laughter.] --prospects!
[It will be a miracle if he's not crawling home by the end of the night.]