Cinder, looking like she’s about to go all phantom of the opera at a gala from the second story:
Winter: Oh, gods damn it
Winter: Hey, what happened?
Cinder, bathed in all things black and gold with a glare that could burn:
Cinder, immediately melting for wife: I stubbed my toe in these heels and my prosthetic’s battery is dying and I want to burn every moron who keeps trying to speak to me
Winter: Would you like if we left early?
Cinder: Very much so
Winter: Good, run before Weiss spots us leaving because she is going to tattle