the little things — @vxridityhq
he didn’t notice at first. han seyoul had been too busy ducking in between people, people who were too close to each other for comfort, people who had the leisure for idle conversations, people who had had one too many glasses of ridiculously sweet champagne, and, ah, the wallflowers, his fellow people. swiping a glass of red wine from one of the waiters, seyoul made his way over to the left wall of the vast room, occasionally sipping his alcohol a little and trying to blend in.
what did it even take to blend in at a masquerade? he had never really been the type to show up at parties, especially something like this one with all the dress up and grandeur and flair, but out of respect for club vue (ha!), one of the bigger establishments at the resort, seyoul had made an effort. he had showed up in a clean black suit, clearly missing a tie, and a slightly unbuttoned black shirt. (the collar choking his neck was one of his pet peeves.) and, lord behold, he was even wearing one of those bizarre masks; his was black with gold and scarlet designs, his hair mussed and spilling over the top of it.
it was obvious to see the reason seyoul wasn’t as vigilant of his surroundings as he usually was—there were just too many distractions, to say the last—but about an hour in to this party that he was starting to want to leave, someone caught the corner of his eye. that someone was a woman, thin and pale, who kept turning backwards every time he looked over his shoulder. it were the little things that captured his attention and sold her out. feeling a little amused, seyoul felt the corners of his lips curving upwards, but quickly pulled them down into a firm line when he realized that he had almost smiled.
downing the rest of his wine like a shot, seyoul set the glass down on a random table, ran his fingers through his hair, and made his way over to the familiar figure.
hand jutting forwards to touch her arm ever so slightly, he heard himself say, “doing some snooping, eunah?”
