[It's a strategic choice to bring Wanda upstairs: he's pulling her away from unwanted attention discreetly (though, maybe once Wanda is safe, Stephen might open a portal from underneath the drunk man to over a nearby garbage container, where the man clearly belongs), and once out of sight, he'll be able to offer to bring her back home. It's almost a shame to end her night so early, especially while wearing that rather enticing red babydoll.
It doesn't go unnoticed that she takes his arm away from the creep, and Stephen offers her what easily passes as his warmest, brightest smile when she acquiesces to his suggestion: acting is not something he's done often in his life, but he can make it work well enough.
He pulls his arm closer so Wanda can lean against him as he weaves their body through the crowd, feeling the angry stare of the drunk man on his back. Acting like nothing's wrong, he grabs a tray with a bottle of champagne and two flutes from a server, ignoring the yelp of indignation from the club's employee, before he leads Wanda up the stairs and into the first empty, clean room he can find on the second level.
The music can be heard from downstairs, though often not loud enough to muffle the hushed laughter and moans coming from the other rooms. Letting go of Wanda, Stephen locks the door behind them, in case the creep chose to follow them, before sliding the tray on the table beside the bed.]
Are you all right? [He asks, an eyebrow arched slightly, though the concern in his tone is genuine.]
no subject
It doesn't go unnoticed that she takes his arm away from the creep, and Stephen offers her what easily passes as his warmest, brightest smile when she acquiesces to his suggestion: acting is not something he's done often in his life, but he can make it work well enough.
He pulls his arm closer so Wanda can lean against him as he weaves their body through the crowd, feeling the angry stare of the drunk man on his back. Acting like nothing's wrong, he grabs a tray with a bottle of champagne and two flutes from a server, ignoring the yelp of indignation from the club's employee, before he leads Wanda up the stairs and into the first empty, clean room he can find on the second level.
The music can be heard from downstairs, though often not loud enough to muffle the hushed laughter and moans coming from the other rooms. Letting go of Wanda, Stephen locks the door behind them, in case the creep chose to follow them, before sliding the tray on the table beside the bed.]
Are you all right? [He asks, an eyebrow arched slightly, though the concern in his tone is genuine.]