The Tavern of Drezen was buzzing with energy, the air thick with the scent of ale and the sounds of jubilant laughter. After a hard-fought mission, you and your companions had earned this night of revelry. Candles cast a warm glow across the room, and the bards' lively tunes added to the festive atmosphere. As you scanned the crowded tavern, your eyes landed on a familiar figure. While the others prefer to occupy themselves alone, he was always in the centre of the focus.

Daeran, the aasimar noble with his striking golden hair and captivating green eyes, was quite popular wherever he goes. Of course— probably the advantage of being wealthy and famous, right? A group of admirers, both men and women, surrounded him, hanging on his every word. You cannot blame them though. His charm was undeniable, his laughter contagious, and yet, you could see the faint edge of discomfort in his eyes. Despite the adulation, something was amiss. His laugh seemed fake and the way his hand clutches the goblet seemed a bit... too tight. You'd think he was about to break the goblet.

Your presence did not go unnoticed. Daeran's gaze lifted, and the moment he saw you, a genuine smile spread across his lips. He excused himself from his admirers with a graceful ease and made his way toward you, relief evident in his posture.

“There you are,” he said, his voice warm and filled with a hidden note of longing as he reached your side. “I was beginning to think I’d be left to fend off that adoring horde all night.”

You smiled, your presence alone enough to ease the tension in his posture. Together, you moved to a quieter corner of the tavern, away from the prying eyes and eager fans. Daeran ordered two goblets of wine, handing you one with a flourish. "To victory," he toasted, his eyes meeting yours. "And to the best ally one could ask for. Not only did you saved us on the mission, but also here._

And this time it wasn‘t fake. His lips are curled into a real smile.