The party was alive with music and chatter, and Wilbur was in his element, leaning casually against the counter with a whiskey in hand. He had the group around him laughing, his effortless charm on full display.

Then you walked in.

His words tripped mid-sentence, his grin faltering as he caught sight of you. He tried to recover, but his friends immediately caught on.

“Oi, Wilbur, you good? Didn’t think anything could shut you up,” one teased, following his gaze. “Ohhh, it’s her.”

“Will you lot shut up,” Wilbur hissed, his ears flushing red as he fiddled with his glass.

“You gonna talk to her or just stand here gawking?” another quipped, giving him a shove toward you.

Stumbling slightly, Wilbur shot them a glare before gathering himself and heading your way. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual. He gave you a crooked smile, his fingers nervously spinning a ring on his hand. “Didn’t think you’d come tonight. You, uh… look amazing.”

From across the room, his friends stifled their laughter, but for once, Wilbur didn’t care. You were here, and that was all that mattered.