Aquila was glad that Seneca seemed even less concerned about how her father would take their little escapade tonight, and she was willing to trust him on that aspect. After all, it hadn’t been such a bad thing, right? Just a little effect for the crazy journalists. It didn’t mean anything… though it hadn’t felt all that bad once the shock had passed. Aquila’s knowledge and closer contact with men was far and few between, make no mistake, and as such she found it quite flattering she was getting so much attention from Seneca tonight.
Twirling gracefully under his arm, enjoying the way her long sleeves swayed while she did it, she flashed him a conspiratiorial grin. “I could put in a good word with my father, if you want. Maybe he’ll be a bit nicer to you, if I told him I didn’t mind so much?” she suggested. That was definitely flirting now, but she trusted Seneca to not read too much into it. After all, he was more her chaperone tonight than a date, being around twice her age. But she also could not deny that he was definitely making an effort for turning this night into a half-date, something definitely exciting, and Aquila knew she would be enternally grateful to him, always keeping this evening in fond memory.
Far too soon the dance was over, but Aquila didn’t complain. The night was still young, and there was just too much to do on a party such as this. And her dreams had been halfway fulfilled with this one dance already, she would think back on that for a long time to come. “A drink would sound wonderful, yes”, she agreed enthusiastically and let herself being led towards the table with sparkling wine. Aquila knew she shouldn’t drink too much of that quickly intoxicating beverage, or she might become a little too careless. Adding that to the wildness she already felt tonight, this could turn out embarrassing, if she didn’t watch herself.
Taking the glass with a blush, she raised her glass as well and returned the toast. “And I couldn’t have wished for any better company myself. May this become a night we both will think back to for quite some time!” It might be wishful thinking concerning him, but Aquila merely didn’t care. He probably gave these compliments to all those women who accompanied him, they couldn’t be special. But they didn’t have to be. Just receiving them, getting the chance to be at his side tonight was more than a girl her age normally could wish for. It was an excellent beginning to a life of fame, if she had the desire to live such a life.
"Did you just say I am worth it?" Seneca teasingly clarified with an impish grin on his face. His hand had involuntarily rested around her slim waist when she tiptoed closer to him and whispered her words. Somehow, Seneca wanted her to stay there, like this, very close. He actually wished she'd be all over him like most of his dates would, clinging onto his arms or holding his arms themselves. But he would give Aquila the chance. She is after all just a teenager. She probably had a lot more to learn in the flirting department, though right now, Seneca was not disappointed in her at all. He'd gladly turn the tables around and flirt with her himself. Now, did Aquila practically just tell him that she would withstand all the gossip and badmouthing that will come her way because of him? Well, while there was no surprise in that, any woman after all would want to be in her place tonight, Seneca still appreciated hearing words like this. Seneca lived on these kinds of attention.
And he thought she didn't know a trick or two about pleasing the opposite sex. Here she comes bantering quite boldly with him on the subject of his father not liking the kiss Seneca just planted on her throat. "Oh now, I don't want you to lie to your father, my pretty one. But if what you say is true, then who am I to oppose your brilliant idea." Seneca was, of course, humoring her. He'd find out soon enough if she really was enjoying the kiss as much as he did. Truth be told, Seneca already had a feeling she did, for how would she still be in his arms if she was horrified by that one harmless kiss. She could have easily walked out on him that very moment, but she didn't. Yes, she didn't mind that kiss one bit. In fact, Seneca felt like she even wanted more. Who was he to deny her that pleasure? The night was young, and they have all the time in the world tonight to do more of those little playful shenanigan if she wanted them to.
Seneca downed his drink in one swig and asked for another one. There was so much food and drinks that it would be a sacrilege not to enjoy them all. While Seneca was no fan of the "vomiting" drink, he made sure to taste and sample a little of everything every time he graces a party. That was only the most gracious way of thanking and appreciating their host for inviting them to the shindig. "You make it sound like there wouldn't be any more of this," Seneca told her as he took a sip from his new glass. "An artist friend of mine is opening his painting exhibit at the gallery next week, and he invited me to attend. I would love it if you'd indulge me with your delightful company once again. Only if you want to, of course. I wouldn't want to force myself upon your time, you probably have lots of suitors to entertain." Seneca just decided that he had no plans of making this a one-night-only thing between him and Aquila, which is actually him breaking his known practice for the first time. Seneca couldn't care less. Aquila was far too beautiful and precious a prize than all the other women he had taken out combined that she deserved one or two more opportunities to be seen with him. Add to that her youthful exuberance which actually only makes Seneca feel just as youthful. Aquila also presents quite a challenge being a little too young for him. She makes Seneca want to work hard for her affections and attention, something that he hadn't done in a while now. Yes, he loved the challenge of a new conquest, just like he loved manipulating the tributes in the games with his and his gamemakers' endless bag of tricks. He wanted to see how long he could ensnare Aquila and ensnare her good.
