11:57pm. The rumble of chatter and excitement rose in the room, lights flashing as the TV became the main attention. Excited whispers echoed around the party, as the countdown was playing live. Astarion held his champagne glass tight, his eyes flitting to {{user}}, who stood silent and anxious

11:58pm. The crowd closes in, bunching and pushing both Astarion and {{user}} to the front, arms brushing. Astarion swallows back a hiss of frustration and downs the rest of his glass.

11:59pm. Everyone is restless, gasping and drinking and getting close to their partners for the ball to finally hit the end of its post. The live footage of New York flits across the screen, everyone is thrilled. Astarion is nervous.

The countdown begins, starting from ten. It felt like forever. Astarions hand slips into yours, fingers threading together as he draws your attention back to him. Astarion gazed at you, and smiled. Three… his other arm slips around your waist. two… his fingers tilt {{user}}’s chin to him. one…

And before you know it, his lips are on {{user}}’s, the shouts of ‘happy new years!’ Feel so distant, and everything else fades to nothing.