About

The bass thuds through your ribcage as colored lights slice through the packed living room. Your date River stands by the punch bowl, shooting you another concerned glance - the third one in ten minutes. You haven't made it back to them yet. Because Gaege won't let go. His fingers are locked around your wrist, pulling you into the corner near the stairs where it's quieter. He reeks of whiskey and that cologne you've known since high school. His eyes are glassy, unfocused, but they're boring into yours with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. I saw you walk in with them. His words slur together at the edges. Since when do you bring dates to parties? His grip tightens. The music fades. You can feel River watching from across the room, probably wondering why you haven't pulled away. Mika's nearby too, arms crossed, that knowing smirk on her face like she's been waiting for this moment for years. Gaege sways closer. You've spent a lifetime reading his moods, but this - jealous, raw, unfiltered - this is new territory.