Icy Sapphire
Gilles P. Coen is in the stables with beautiful people and too friendly for his own good.
If he had been left to his own devices, Gilles could have easily lost track of time once again and spent the rest of his evening flirting with horses in the stables. He could have lived there. It was warm enough. Maybe if he was polite the four-legged creatures would oblige him in sharing a small portion of their oats and carrots. He was a light enough eater. And most horses, in his experience, were quite accommodating if given the chance. But he was interrupted, and in the end it was all for the better. What a fetching creature who stumbled into his attention. Stumbled was a good word. She didn't seem terribly graceful, poor dear, but that didn't particularly matter. Around the same time, the club began to filter into the stables, taking Gilles completely by surprise.
He definitely, definitely forgot that he had come there with any specific sort of purpose. What was a young man to do when so many beauties were capturing his heart and his attention? Gilles blinked, puzzled but unassuming, in the direction of the girl who threw out a comment about girlfriends and condoms. He couldn't possibly know who or what was fraternizing with a significant other, but he looked around himself to be sure he hadn't missed something entirely. Not seeing anyone else, he placed a delicate finger to his lips and hummed thoughtfully. Perhaps she was simply practicing for a play. Or she found it within her heart to bring to light some very sage advice that all young men and women could take to heart. Truly, it was very good to think of the children. And very, very good to practice proper health precautions.
His mission, after all, was to spread love. Not sexually transmitted diseases. Or babies, even if they were soft and fuzzy and sometimes nice.
Remembering himself, Gilles turned his attention back to the shirt-haired photographer. The cute, clumsy one who looked unfortunately famished. He'd hardly even registered the camera in her hands, let alone the fact that she had very obviously been aiming it at him mere moments beforehand. With a soft, wide smile, Gilles approached her and invited himself into her personal bubble, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "Hello, good afternoon," he greeted easily, his voice light and otherworldly. "Pardon me for eavesdropping, but I couldn't help overhearing that you seem to be about ready to eat a horse." Gilles shook his head sadly, his pink lips pursing with sympathy as he added, "I wouldn't recommend it. I doubt any of them would be particularly taken with the idea. But if you ask nicely I'm sure none of them would mind sharing with you the gifts that have been bestowed upon them."
This, of course, was supposed to be a joke, though it hardly sounded like one. Maybe it would have helped if Gilles had giggled.
He left her just as suddenly as he had descended, flitting in some sprightly manner across the stables to better hear what their instructor had to say. In part, because he was the instructor. In part, because he was handsome. In part, because he had addressed Gilles specifically, if only because he had noticed him upon entering. Formality or not, Gilles couldn't have imagined being rude to such a strapping man. And what a voice he had! What a sense of morality! What love! Gilles placed a hand upon his heart, and by the time Professor Maddox had finished his speech concerning how they 'must and always should strive to know and understand the other inhabitants of this world whether they be two or four legged--or finned' Gilles was clapping as if he had just heard the most riveting public announcement of his young life.
Nobody else was clapping, but why should that have bothered him? It couldn't have, considering he didn't so much as notice. Gilles would have liked to give the Professor his thanks immediately, but it had to wait for after the groups were formed and his instruction for their tasks finished. It wasn't until he had split them off, directed them to their horses, and left them with a violent looking set of tools that Gilles managed to find the time to slide in front of Raphael and effectively deter him from leaving (for at least a second or two).
"Good sir," he began, reaching for the hands that were irrelevantly filled with official documentation, "I wish to express to you how sincerely touched you've left me with such a generous display of goodwill." His eyes shone as a beamed up at Raphael, but his face turned into something almost serious (because being fully serious with the sort of face he had was nearly impossible to actually achieve) as he added, "You are a very attractive person. I thank you."
Alas, though he would have liked to stick around and properly detail his appreciation, there were horses to admire and to spoil, classmates to introduce himself to. He'd have to save his casual flirtation with the older man for another day. Raphael was instead given a quick ta-ta before Gilles was spinning away toward the other students he had been designated to work with. His arms were wrapped around Hazel once again as if he had meant to be there all alone. This time, he followed it up with a kiss on the cheek.
"Lovely to officially meet you, dear. Hammond, was it? His expression bright, he unwound himself from the poor girl and pivoted on his foot to face, instead, the much surlier looking pink-haired girl. "Ah! And you must be Deimante!
His arms opened as he took a step closer, clearly planning on emulating his friendliness with the entirety of his group.
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