Everyone else had already trailed out of the room, but they were still in a sense there as Eric lit up with joy and kissed her with open, transparent love. If they turned around, they would see. Immensely shy all of a sudden, Amber barely moved, her breath hitching to feel the warmth of his lips against hers once more. This wasn't like getting as close as possible to fucking him in restaurants or bars, where she wanted the attention and acclaim of being with the handsomest guy in the room-- that was amongst strangers. It was a performance.
Here-- Amber felt like she'd blurted "He's my boyfriend" all over again, that same embarrassment and stubborn pride burning within her. She squeezed Eric's hands and tried to smile, but her mouth twisted into strange thing. This mattered. He mattered. And-- and she didn't want her family to see. Didn't want them to take this and judge and tell her how to do it right. It didn't make sense. Amber wanted to show Eric off and, at the same time, keep him to herself. He was none of their business.
Confused with this sudden rush of realizations and feelings, Amber shook her head. Later. There'd be real hell to pay if they lingered any longer. "I love you too," Amber said, more softly than she'd intended. She ran her hand over his face once, softly, before tugging him away.
"Would you like more wine or juice?" Her mom primly asked. More guest behavior; normally Amber would be expected to go fetch her own drinks.
"Wine," Amber said.
In her distraction, Amber didn't notice Eric walking up to her chair and pulling it from the table. At the sound of wood scraping against wood, she saw. Again the chivalry. Her self-consciousness came back stronger than ever: this time, everyone was watching. And it'd be a real popular move: Amber didn't have to see her mom to know she'd be smirking knowingly, or that Aunt Jude would be nodding along, satisfied that her niece's guy friend was following proper etiquette.
Amber sat down without comment, as if she were demurely accepting. What else she could do? Even if she were annoyed, she couldn't tell Eric off, not when everyone else approved. She was still trying to impress them all, and this furthered her goal, even at the price of her own dignity.
“I thought no one did that anymore,” her dad said, his voice betraying how impressed he was.
“Just because you don’t doesn’t mean no one else does,” her mom said.
“Yeah,” Geoffrey said, and the smug jerk pulled out a chair for Madeleine and then Leila, both of whom seemed pretty happy with the attention. He probably did always do that, to make himself look good. Self-serving gallantry.
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Here-- Amber felt like she'd blurted "He's my boyfriend" all over again, that same embarrassment and stubborn pride burning within her. She squeezed Eric's hands and tried to smile, but her mouth twisted into strange thing. This mattered. He mattered. And-- and she didn't want her family to see. Didn't want them to take this and judge and tell her how to do it right. It didn't make sense. Amber wanted to show Eric off and, at the same time, keep him to herself. He was none of their business.
Confused with this sudden rush of realizations and feelings, Amber shook her head. Later. There'd be real hell to pay if they lingered any longer. "I love you too," Amber said, more softly than she'd intended. She ran her hand over his face once, softly, before tugging him away.
"Would you like more wine or juice?" Her mom primly asked. More guest behavior; normally Amber would be expected to go fetch her own drinks.
"Wine," Amber said.
In her distraction, Amber didn't notice Eric walking up to her chair and pulling it from the table. At the sound of wood scraping against wood, she saw. Again the chivalry. Her self-consciousness came back stronger than ever: this time, everyone was watching. And it'd be a real popular move: Amber didn't have to see her mom to know she'd be smirking knowingly, or that Aunt Jude would be nodding along, satisfied that her niece's guy friend was following proper etiquette.
Amber sat down without comment, as if she were demurely accepting. What else she could do? Even if she were annoyed, she couldn't tell Eric off, not when everyone else approved. She was still trying to impress them all, and this furthered her goal, even at the price of her own dignity.
“I thought no one did that anymore,” her dad said, his voice betraying how impressed he was.
“Just because you don’t doesn’t mean no one else does,” her mom said.
“Yeah,” Geoffrey said, and the smug jerk pulled out a chair for Madeleine and then Leila, both of whom seemed pretty happy with the attention. He probably did always do that, to make himself look good. Self-serving gallantry.