"Hawke." There was an underlying warning laced into Cullen's tone. "What are you doing?"
"Stripping!" she chirped. "If a certain dwarf hadn't about cleaned me out of coin last night, wouldn't have to. But I gotta bet something."
On her other side, Varric was chuckling. Hand up, covering his face as he tried to hide the absolutely wicked grin he was sporting. Hawke nudged his arm, giggling all the while as she slid off one of her boots and set it on the center of the table.
One rousing tale of Chateau Haine later and Hawke shivered against the nip in the air. Though the gathering had since dwindled, few left to hear the cheesey end to Varric's tale, the pile of clothes in the center of the table had grown. Hawke, however, was more focused on Varric and about choked on her ale when he finished the story.
"That's not what I said!" she protested, loudly.
Varric grinned, patting her arm. "It's better this way."
She snorted, taking another swig of ale while doing her best to squint unmercifully at the dwarf. It was, of course, difficult in her inebriated state. A shift to her other side and Hawke snapped her head around, pressing a hand to her temple when the room began to spin. Cullen was grumbling and growling as he pulled his tunic over his head. Across the table, Josephine look positively delighted with herself.
"W-wait, did I lose again?" Hawke slurred out, turning to glare at her cards.
"I told you, Curly, should have bowed out." Varric was grinning openly now, leaned back in his chair looking utterly pleased with himself.
Meanwhile Hawke squinted. First at her cards, then at Varric. And as her gaze dragged across the table around to her other side, she finally processed Cullen's rather shirtless state. A devious grin curled at her lips.
"Why, Commander," she drawled out. "Don't you look ravishing tonight."
Varric sputtered into his ale while Josephine tried to, politely, keep her giggling to herself. While Hawke seemed unaffected by the amusement of the others, Cullen appeared a fair bit more distressed. The color that started to creep up his chest and bloom out across his cheeks and all the way to his ears was nearly unnatural in shade. Hawke could also, somewhere through her drunken fog, feel the prickle of his skin as she awkwardly wrapped her hand around his arm.
She let out a mock gasp, leaning closer against him. "You look cold, maybe I could warm you up?"
"Hawke!" Cullen pulled his arm free from her grasp only to slump forward on the table and bury his face in both arms, groaning.