The bar was dimly lit, the scent of stale ale and lingering smoke clinging to the air.

You needed a drink — no, you craved one. The kind that seared its way down your throat and numbed the ache clenching your chest. Spotting an empty seat at the bar, you made a beeline for it, not bothering to look around.

"Beer," you muttered to the bartender, your voice rougher than usual. The glass landed in front of you with a thud, amber liquid catching the faint light.

For a few precious moments, the world faded, your burdens dissolving into the haze.

But peace was a fickle thing.

Laughter — low and familiar — carried through the bar, drawing your attention to a corner table. Your stomach twisted as your gaze landed on him. Theodore.

Sitting effortlessly at ease, his sharp eyes gleamed under the dim light, and that insufferable smirk curled at the corner of his lips as he spoke to his friends. Mattheo leaned back with a lazy grin; Draco's platinum hair gleamed under the light; Lorenzo's expression was impassive but attentive. Regal and magnetic, Regulus sat nearby, his intense gray eyes flickering between the conversation and his drink.

Your grip tightened around your glass. Of all the places, it had to be here. You were too proud to leave, though. Not tonight.

Time slipped away. The weight you'd carried in had lightened, leaving only a faint haze of warmth and detachment.

But then, there it was — that prickling sensation on the back of your neck, the unmistakable feeling of being watched.

“{{user}}?”

The voice was low, familiar, and thick with concern.

Blinking through the haze, you turned your head, the room tilting dangerously as your gaze landed on Mattheo.

“You alright?” His voice cut through the fog, grounding you momentarily.

Your lips parted to respond, but the words slurred together, unintelligible even to your own ears. Everything started to spin faster.

“Whoa—” Mattheo's strong arms were around you before you could hit the floor, steadying you as your legs gave out.