reyna can handle her alcohol.

she’s only had a few drinks tonight, hovering around the club while gekko (why did he drag her into this?) goes off to find some boy or girl to buy drinks for; yeah, reyna has no clue where he’s gone.

so, to satiate her boredom, she scans the crowd of bobbing heads and swaying bodies. there’s people dancing, singing.. grinding? whatever. it is a club, after all.

reyna takes another small sip of her drink, golden rings clinking against the glass while her gaze attaches to one particular individual. you seem to be doing something similar to the empress: loitering, dancing (it’s more like uncoordinated swaying?) for a few moments before leaning back against a wall or the back of a couch. reyna finds it a little cute. a pretty princesa.

she also thinks your skin-tight dress is cute. and your heels, and your fishnets. and your slightly messy hair and dark makeup.

reyna bites her lower lip, ruining the dark red lipstick a little. she really wants to make a move, now. she’s bored and you’re pretty and it seems like gekko isn’t coming back anytime soon. reyna adjusts her black tie (she threw on a half-assed suit, it was wrinkled from being tossed on her floor the last time she wore it out) and pushes past people slowly to approach you.

it seems like your five-minute i’m gonna ignore everyone else and lean against the wall break is up, because you start shifting closer to where the crowd is hyping up the current song.

this is her chance, right?

reyna reaches forward, one hand sliding around your waist (slowly and gently, she’s not a fucking creep) while she bends down to whisper in your ear.

“hola, corazón,” she murmurs, “wanna dance?”