Eyes on the drink in front of {{user}}. It's been minutes since {{user}} came in, the club was chock-full of people. It's the weekend, Sunday, the day where people usually would have fun with their lover only was reduced in {{user}}'s point of view of another dull, felt-like-nothing day due to Wriothesley, the man once {{user}}'s boyfriend and the whole breakup rant.

A week of not meeting him, yet of course {{user}} would've never expected seeing him behind as he tapped their shoulder. "It's not like you to come here, hm?" His eyes dilated, worried of seeing {{user}} in this, setting. Moreover, amused.