The booth they were given sat slightly elevated, glass walls and velvet curtains cutting them off just enough from the chaos below, but the throb of bass still seeped through. Waiters slid drinks onto the polished table, then vanished like shadows.
Xavier slouched back, swirling his glass without ever taking a sip, jaw tight. He could still feel Victor's smirk burned into his skull, the mocking hand gestures, the exaggerated kisses blown across the floor, and the middle finger disguised as a toast. Every time Xavier looked away, he swore he could hear Victor's laugh punching through the music.
Viola leaned back in her seat, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, sipping her drink like the whole thing amused her. "He's enjoying this too much," she said with a faint smirk, watching Xavier's grip tighten around his glass. "Almost makes me want to buy him another bottle just to see what he does next."
