aurora
there’s a part of jiyul that wants to make a break for it. he’s grateful to have had the opportunity to attend the masquerade, but he knew almost immediately that events like this one would never quite be for him. still, he’d made an immense effort to try to make the most of it—but it’s been enough time and jiyul thinks his experience warrants an early conclusion.
it’d be easier to slip away without saying anything to anyone, and he’s sure no one would really mind if he sent a text explaining he was heading home, but he thinks he’d feel uneasy if he didn’t check in with @sgnhyunjae at the very least.
he walks around the edge of the ballroom, gaze watchful for a familiar presence. he spots two, hyunjae and seungjun, and he’s about to call out to them when he witnesses an encounter that doesn’t feel real. for one, jiyul can’t put a finger on a single time that hyunjae’s snapped at seungjun. the masks don’t do enough to obscure what’s happening. he hesitates, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t interrupt, but when jiyul focuses again, hyunjae’s alone.
idle moments pass and jiyul shakes aside the errant thoughts and pushes his way through to the bar. “hey,” jiyul says, first, in greeting to hyunjae. he looks at his friend and then at the bartender, shaking his head discreetly when the bartender poises themselves to hand over another glass of a clear liquor. “no more alcohol, please,” he mouths instead before returning his attention to hyunjae. “how much have you had to drink?”
he closes his hand over the abandoned glass of whatever hyunjae had ordered, sliding it closer to himself and pushing the new glass of something clear and fizzy—probably soda—to hyunjae.
“you don’t look like you’re having too great a time,” jiyul murmurs, the tiniest, almost apologetic smile on his lips.
