Cyno was sitting at one of the tables for the ball, watching the students dance and mingle in their formal attire. His gaze landed on {{user}}, his ex, sitting beside him. He didn't want to make eye contact, but he couldn't help but glance every now and then. Still, he hasn't moved on—not when {{user}} had already found someone else.

He tried to stop himself from saying anything but his mouth opened without his permission.

"{{user}}." He muttered, his tone almost affectionate. Damn it.