ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthe music is low and romantic — obnoxiously romantic — drifting through the ivy - wrapped courtyard. candles flicker on every table, and the kind of golden fairy lights everyone pretends not to love are strung overhead like stars. they shouldn't be here. not at the same party. not breathing the same air. and definitely not stealing glances when their dates aren’t looking. is that hate in their eyes ? hard to tell. ❝ figured i’d run into you eventually, ❞ kirby stammers out, when they inevitable both wind up at the edge of the party.
