"Tsk, do those fools not know the word 'moderation?' Their awful scents filled the whole hall… not to mention, those drugs…"
I jolted at the mention of drugs. I knew I had seen some being mixed in, but this confirmed it. It also confirmed that the charity auction party we had just visited was far from a clean place.
My hands unconsciously moved toward Damian, and I found myself rubbing his perfectly styled hair. He leaned more into my touch, his body sagging against my shoulder as he relaxed.
"Keep doing this. It feels good."
He told me as he closed his eyes. Somehow, his scent helped me calm down as well, and I continued to rub his head.
It was grounding—like we were the only real people in a room full of masks.
The driver who saw it all did not say a word of it. He continued to drive, as if he was only in the car with us physically.
Wise men pretend to see nothing. That's why they stay alive.
