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#c5bea2 / #98942e
#9c6420 / #623821
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"I'll have a glass of champagne, thanks." Yael jumped at a chance to drink when it came knocking.
Yael listened to what Bernadette had to say, thanking the server again when he returned and knocking back the champagne in one go. She quickly noticed the other woman taking a painkiller with her glass of water.
"Yeah, I get that," Yael responded. "If it were me, I definitely would be putting my name out there. But, I don't know, I guess some people like to separate their art life from everything else." Yael gestured to Bernadette's purse, in reference to the medication she took earlier. "You alright?"
Bernadette raised an eyebrow when she saw Yael take the drink in one go. She didn’t care whether Yael had zero or twenty drinks but it reminded her of beers served in red cups at college parties. The action seemed both fitting and out of place in an art exhibit.
The ones in the most expensive suits, very proper at the beginning of the night and ready to ramble on about the composition of the art, tended to have one drink too many and sometimes ended up buying a painting or doing something else that they would regret the next day. Much like what she saw go down at parties and, since the general population at Olympus had money, no one cheaped out on drinks.
The similarities in behavior between college parties and high-end events could be rather amusing.
“Yes,” she answered, putting her glass on the tray of a passing server, “I just need a smoke.”
She smokes? Yael was rather surprised -- Bernadette seemed like the kind of person who'd be a little uptight, the kind of person who wouldn't know how to let loose. Then again, the more she thought about it, Yael could definitely picture the other woman smoking. She's French, right? Europeans do smoke a lot.
"I feel like I should say something like, 'don't smoke, you could get lung cancer,'" Yael said wryly, "but hey, go ahead. We're here for a good time, not a long one."
Before Bernadette could respond, Yael felt the vibrating of her phone in her pocket. She glanced at the notification, pausing when she saw that it wasn't a drunken message from one of her friends. They closed the line I took to get here . . . and they closed the best alternate line I could've taken. Goddamnit.
Yael shoved her phone back in her pocket with a sigh, glancing back up at Bernadette. Suddenly, she was struck with an idea.
"The subway line I take to get back to campus just closed. Could I possibly hitch a ride with you?" Yael was not one to ask for help unless she really had to, so what she was doing had her just the slightest bit disgruntled. At least I'm saving money on that subway fare.
Yael’s comment definitely pulled a string at her heart, the kind to harden it up and unsettle her all at the same time. She knew the effects of smoking and was constantly confronted with the image of damaged lungs in her cigarette packets, of course, but her father had never smoked a day in his life and here they were. It was certainly not a life made for regrets.
However, the comment did nothing more to her facial expression than cause her to raise an eyebrow and lower her eyes to Yae’ls empty glass for a moment. She might have replied with something but Yael continued talking about a ride.
Normally, after a comment like that, Bernadette would have simply said no but it was dark outside and Bernadette wasn’t heartless.
”I suppose,” Bernadette said with a small nod. ”I don’t plan on being here much longer though.”
Yael grinned. She wasn't sure if Bernadette would have said yes -- the other woman didn't really seem like an overly generous person to her -- so Yael was glad that it worked out. "Brilliant! And that's all right, we can go whenever you'd like. I saw what I came for."