Faolan, clearly aware of how his drunkenness was effecting his body's responses, had hooked his feet under the steps of the stool to steady himself. The more they drank, the more time he and Lucien spent together here, the more at ease he felt. Being with him in a place like this, when he was sober, he thought it might make him nervous, but in fact it had the opposite effect. Despite the noise around the two men, Faolan had no trouble ignoring it for Lucien's sake. The Irishman was entirely absorbed in their conversation, no matter how inconsequential.

[color=a36209]"Well,"[/color] he began, swaying slightly on his stool as he refocussed his eyes on the small amount of whiskey left in his glass, [color=a36209]"It comes from 'uisce beatha', means 'water of life'."[/color] He said before tilting the glass and letting the last few drops of liquor run down into his mouth. He couldn't taste it anymore, now that he was properly blocked, but for some reason he wanted to keep drinking. [color=a36209]"I don't have to drink it, see..."[/color] he added, leaning toward Lucien slightly, [color=a36209]"Because it runs in my veins."[/color]

Lucien couldn't help but crack a wider smile at Faolan's expression as he shared this information. He was swelling with pride, for someone who was not interested in drinking before, and the Frenchman couldn't help but acknowledge that. [color=burlywood]"Well,"[/color] he said, [color=burlywood]"That sounds pretty romantic to me..."[/color] Leaning towards Faolan until the two were only inches apart. He kept his smile, glad for the proximity.

Faolan's first instinct, had he not been drinking whiskey for two hours, would have been to pull away from Lucien. Unfortunately, his body and his mind were miles away at the moment, and he could not quite react fast enough. In fact, he felt his eyes drawn to Lucien's lips for some reason, and felt his mouth hanging open slightly as hot breath escaped him.

[b]"Oh, I agree with that, don't you Marie?"[/b] A foreign, female voice, brought Faolan out of his reverie instantly. He leaned back away from Lucien, almost overbalancing and steadying himself against the bar. He looked over to see that two women had approached them, pink in the face and scantily clad for being unaccompanied this late at night. One had dark hair, and the one who spoke had blonde hair. The two were completely slathered in makeup, and their perfume was so strong that Faolan had to fight the urge to cover his nose.

[b]"I absolutely do, Charlotte."[/b] The dark-haired woman answered as she sidled up to Lucien and placed her had on the back of his chair. [b]"And those accents! Where are you two from?"[/b] She asked, looking expectantly between the two of them.