It's the black roses. They remind her of things that she sometimes she thinks she would rather forget, things taken from her that she can never get back, when she was young, too young and never afraid of the dark. It puts those thoughts uncomfortably close to the front, things she usually manages not to think about. Then he touches her elbow, and it's a little surprising, she is not the most physially affectionate person in the world, but she smiles up at him.

She eyes him carefully when he thanks her, and her expression turns a little playful. Of course you're handsome, York. But she understands the self-consciousness, too, how other people see them as imperfections. Her healing factor meant she healed fast and usually cleanly, but she had her own scars. That self-deprecation joke about bikinis she'd used against Steve as a way to disarm the situation.

"They do like their theatrics, don't they," she offers quietly with a sideways look. She's seen parties in the midst of wars before, but it always depended. When the buildings around you were bombed-out shells, there This was a show of means, whether for their soldiers or for the Exotics, she was still deciding. The fact that dressing the Exotics up seemed to be something of a competition also wasn't lost on her, either.

"You enjoying the show?"