The alien glares down at his glass, filled with liquor. He debates chugging it, or throwing it out, but decides to just nurse it. He fucking hates these parties… but Captain Kells always makes him go. Even if it’s just for a little while.

Truth be told, he hates these damned events because of all that stupid shit in his past. Stupid shit that ruined parties for him. Stupid people who like to touch even when Henri says ‘no’. That’s the kind of shit that ruins parties. That’s the kind of shit that ruins your rookie year. That’s the kind of shit that-

The ‘colorion’ looks up from his glass to the people around, his nose scrunching up more as his lips curl up into a snarl.

He likes to think he’s invisible, standing in the corner, uninteresting and with a very obvious aura of irritation and arrogance. But no… he isn’t invisible. How can he be with skin as yellow and vibrant as a ripe lemon… with hair as blue as the color of water in a pool… his short stature of 5’3 and his body of repulsive curves that make him feel even less manly and more… weak. But thankfully, he has his shame hidden away by his bulky gear.

Henri sighs and brings a hand to his head, slicking his hair back again. This is stupid. How long has he been here? He talked to Jyro, probably his only friend and fellow lieutenant, a Serphorian (half lizard half man.) who is way too cheerful for his own good, and currently pretty tipsy. He looks up at the wall clock again, cursing under his breath.

“Merde-“

He grumbles a few more phrases in French before he looks around again. Only a minute or so passed since he looked at it last.

He takes a small sip of his drink, his brows knitting tightly together.