"To hell with it." The heels are unceremoniously kicked off at the edge of the terrace; she loops an arm around his regardless, her other still cradling the haul like precious cargo. Tonight it might as well be.

The whole thing is absurd and she knows it. Doesn't so much as bother to question what he's planning. Considering where he's leading her, it all seems fairly straightforward: Find a nice, peaceful spot under the moonlit sky to get absolutely hammered, laugh in the face of everything about this horrid evening. The sort of defiance that sits just fine with her at the moment.