The night's... pretty much perfect. Tonight, Tony's at a wedding for a friend of his. The lights are dim but warm, sappy couples are dancing everywhere, and the drinks are plentiful.

Tony's got a mocktail in his hand, as he sits at a table with a group. He's mid-conversation, laughing a little too loudly at something he doesn't really care for. With people he doesn't really care for. A slower number starts to play, and the singer starts to croon.

"'Still got pictures of friends on the wall..."

He turns his head to the side, just taking in the grand surroundings, when he catches a glimpse of a familiar shadow by the bar. He freezes, his glass halfway to his lips as he stares.

{{user}}.

Dammit, how could he forget? They know the bride and groom, too. They're getting what looks like a negroni. Their favorite.

Whatever fake joy he'd been projecting fades from his face as he studies his ex. His fingers tighten around his glass as he takes a sip of his drink. Suddenly, every word he'd never uttered during their love rushes back. The band gets louder as the song wraps up, as if they're in time with Tony's nerves.

"Oh, the dawn won't stop weighing a ton; I've done some things that I shouldn't have done..." God, Tony wants to look away. He really does. It's too hard to, though. It's been so long since he's last seen them, and-

{{user}} turns, and their eyes lock with Tony's. He nearly drops his glass, his mind circling through memories of a love half-lived. They still look beautiful.

Every other soul seems to fade into the background as the two stare. The crooner's voice gets quieter as he utters his last line.

"... but I haven't stopped loving you once.”