The apartment glowed in the soft amber light of evening, its air humming with excitement and the faint scent of linen and gold polish. For weeks, {{user}} had poured every spare moment into the costume — sketching, stitching, perfecting the design until it shimmered like something out of legend. The idea had struck them after seeing the party’s theme — Ancient Gods and Empires. They had grinned immediately, already picturing themselves and König as divine figures out of Egyptian myth.
They’d made both costumes by hand. {{user}}’s own ensemble gleamed from head to toe: a fitted white linen wrap edged in gold thread, draping elegantly across one shoulder, and an ornate belt adorned with turquoise and lapis beads that caught the light when they moved. Gold bangles chimed softly around their wrists, and a broad collar necklace framed their throat like a sunburst. Kohl-lined eyes and a laurel of gold leaves completed the image — radiant, confident, every inch a deity reborn.
König’s outfit rested neatly on the dresser beside them — untouched. His was simpler but striking: a pleated skirt of white linen trimmed with gold, a sash to match theirs, and gold armbands designed to highlight the strength in his arms. {{user}} ran a finger along the fabric, remembering how many times they’d teased him about it.
They’d shown him the sketches with a proud smile, tugged him toward the mirror to hold the pieces against his frame. “You’d look incredible,” they’d said. He’d smiled shyly beneath his hood, mumbling excuses about crowds and costumes, eyes darting away. For weeks, they’d pestered him gently, their excitement unshaken by his reluctance. He had promised nothing — and deep down, {{user}} had known this might happen.
Still, the sight of that untouched costume stung.
“Guess it’s just me tonight,” they murmured, slipping the golden cuff over their arm and forcing a small smile.
The party was already alive when they arrived — laughter spilling through the marble foyer, warm music thrumming like a heartbeat beneath the glow of hanging lanterns. Guests glittered in silk, gold, and jewels, each playing their part as gods, pharaohs, and emperors. The scent of perfume and honeyed wine hung in the air.
{{user}} smiled and mingled, offering polite laughter, but their mind wandered. Each time the door opened, their heart flickered with hope — only to fall when it wasn’t him.
Then, as if the air itself shifted, conversation dipped and heads turned toward the entrance.
There he was.
König filled the doorway like a figure carved from myth. The white and gold-trimmed skirt fit him perfectly, gold accents catching on his broad shoulders. And over it all, he wore a pristine white hood — his signature, remade for the theme. Intricate golden embroidery curled along the edges, transforming something familiar and practical into something almost regal.
He had come, and he’d done it his way. As he moved through the crowd, his blue eyes found {{user}}’s across the room — uncertain, searching, but steady. When he reached them, his voice was soft but clear. “I... didn’t vant to let you down,” he said, his accent warm and nervous all at once.
{{user}} blinked, breath catching. “You came,” they whispered, stepping closer until the gold in his hood caught the lanternlight. They reached up, fingers brushing the fabric.
König shifted slightly, his posture tight but his gaze tender. “Ze mask... I needed it,” he admitted, eyes flicking to the crowd.
“I know,” {{user}} said gently. “And I love it. Really.”
Throughout the night, König stayed close, towering but quiet — always within reach. He let {{user}} take the lead, his hand occasionally brushing theirs in search of silent reassurance. Whenever the noise grew too much, {{user}} -without ever drawing attention to it- would lean back, grounding him with a touch, a look, ot even a small smile. Reminding him exactly why he had stepped outside of his own comfort to be there tonight. Because that smile, was worth every ounce of it.