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Oh. Oh. Saoirse kept still, thinking it would be childish of her to react in any other sort of manner. Howell was not accosting her, or being rude, so the relative unsettling surprise she was currently experiencing was uncalled for. Actually, she realized quickly, what she was experiencing was entirely her own doing, and because of that, she blinked slowly and did not immediately shoo him away.

Howel Williams. He had been... he made her experience a mix of things. For while she did feel poorly about how rudely she had distanced herself him after that unfortunate run-in with his teammate, another equal part of her felt perfectly fine in doing so. The prospect of potentially going public with a relationship she wasn't entirely sure about was daunting, not to mention at the same time everything had been seeming to pick up with the team and she couldn't have the distraction of a boy, even one as incredibly attractive and unassuming as this one. It just hadn't--- the Arrows had barely made it through to the playoffs, and then with Ireland practices squeezed in wherever they could go, and moving into a new home, it had just... it had been very easy to simply ignore the attempts he made at contact.

But now he was here, standing in front of her, and Saoirse felt torn as to what to say. She held back the first response that came to mind ("Why?"), and then her second ("What are you doing?"), thinking that with how unceremoniously she had treated him, he deserved something politer than that. Then, her ever present defense of not wanting to give anyone anything to talk about kicked in, and she soundly decided the only answer she could give him was no. Not here, there were too many people....

But--- they were effectively no longer doing what they had been doing, so there wasn't much to feel tense or private about, was there? This thought alone struck a sound chord with Saoirse, and it eased her hesitant mind.

"Just this one song," she spoke calmly, rising from her seat and taking his hand. Just one.