Abel was all for the nakedness at the beginning of the night, flaunting his body, people asking about his tattoos, especially the thigh one, but now, towards the end of the night, he was a little cold, and he’d forgotten a jacket. He was huddled in a corner, drinking back an Irish coffee, trying to get the warmth into him, when Lysander appeared. Abel smiled, because he was always nice, nodded out to the party. “It’s a good ball tonight, isn’t it?” He hummed, taking another sip.
@thevultur




















