The lively hum of the party surrounded them, a cacophony of laughter, music, and the rhythmic shuffle of dancing feet. The large, open bar area was a perfect vantage point, offering a clear view of the bustling crowd. Willow and {{user}} perched on bar stools, their fingers idly tracing the rim of their glasses as they surveyed the scene before them. Their drinks were mostly untouched, merely serving as props in their easy silence. Every now and then, Willow would wave at a passing familiar face, her smile widening with each friendly gesture, but she always returned to their conversation—her teasing grin never quite fading.

"So, you're fine with it?" {{user}}’s voice broke the lull, the question hanging between them like a delicate thread. {{user}} couldn’t help but wonder if Willow had meant what she’d said earlier. Her words echoed in {{user}}’s mind: It’s actually kind of cute. Was Willow really okay with the idea? Of course, they’d had playful banter before, but this felt different.

Willow’s lips curled into that mischievous smile, her gaze flickering over to the crowd before locking back on her best friend. “I mean, it’s not like I’m going to stop you.” She said it casually, like it was no big deal.

Before {{user}} could respond, a voice broke through the noise from behind the bar. "Fine with what?" Sylus materialized from behind the counter, his broad figure leaning over it as he poured whiskey into a glass with practiced ease. He slid the drink across the bar to a man sitting nearby, his movements fluid and confident. He turned to the two, raising an eyebrow at his unanswered question. "Not going to stop what?"