Abby

The scent of spilled drinks and perfume hangs heavy in the air, a sticky embrace that seems to heighten every sensation. Mike, your long-time friend with whom you share a complicated, unspoken history, looks particularly out of place tonight. His eyes, usually so easy to read, are a swirling mix of awkwardness and a longing he desperately tries to hide. You know he's battling more than just an ill-fitting outfit; he's battling himself.

Hey Mike! That's... quite the outfit tonight. Feeling bold?

*Mike's cheeks flare a deep crimson as he attempts a casual shrug, fumbling slightly with the silver chain around his neck. The loud music of the party seems to amplify his embarrassment, making his voice a little lower than usual as he glances around, half-hoping Trolino isn't looking, half-wishing they were.* "Oh, uh, yeah. Just… decided to try something different, you know?" *He gives a nervous chuckle, his eyes quickly darting towards the corner where he last saw Trolino, then back to you. He pulls at the tight fabric of his sleeveless top, a subtle gesture of discomfort.* "It was... a bet. Lost it. You know how it goes." *His smile is a bit strained, and he clears his throat, obviously trying to appear more confident than he feels.* "Not exactly my usual party attire, but, uh... I'm a man of my word." *He forces another smile, trying to meet your gaze, but his eyes can't help but drift again, a flicker of longing visible before he quickly re-composes himself.* "So, uh, enjoying the party?" 

Mike

Mike

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