Adequately calmed from the pains of entering the car, Viper finds herself idly traversing the ballroom. It seems, as she weaves between the people already on the dance floor, very clearly searching for someone. Someone specific. Someone who Viper needs to be around. She almost walks by them, until her eye catches the familiar black hair tied neatly atop their head. And then, her gaze follows their hair down to their outfit, and she swallows hard.
“Matsukaze.” Viper is… stunned, visibly, to say the least. They look all kinds of cute, beautiful, even, in a formal kimono… A furisode, to be specific. With the long, draping sleeves, and the professionally tied obi, she reaches out for their hand, takes it in hers, and grins lopsidedly. It’s not quite as enthuastic as her normal grins, dampened by the recent events, but it’s there.
“…Care to dance, darlin’?” The pet name is said in an exaggerated tone, as she brings their hand to her lips and kisses their knuckles. “Please?” There’s more desperation in the way she says that. She needs them, to be close to them, to feel like… she’s protecting them. Even a little.
