Theea
Yla
I laugh, short and sharp, the sound catching in my throat as I toss back the shot Sohalia slips into my hand. It hits harder than the first—gods, I wasn’t ready—and I have to clamp my mouth shut to keep from coughing. My eyes water. My chest burns. I barely manage to choke it down, scrunching my face like it might help.
“That’s fine,” I rasp to no one in particular. “That’s completely fine. I’m thriving.”
The rim of the bar is my anchor as I blink hard, trying to catch up with whatever chaos I just re-entered. The glitter, the sweat, the noise.
Sohalia steps forward, confident in a way that makes the whole room tilt slightly around her. She’s holding a shot glass like it’s a loaded weapon and smiling atKoa like she’s finally ready to pull the trigger. I watch, wide-eyed, as she calls him out—really calls him out—and when Koa’s answer is to strip his shirt off and smirk, I’m too stunned to do anything but whistle under my breath at the two of them as she licks the salt from his neck.
There’s a wink from Mateo that finds me through the madness, and I smile back instinctively, sheepish and uncertain. He looks like he’s having the time of his life, draped in glitter and tequila and Vesper’s hands. Calypso and Kaisel are pressed together like they're trying to burn the memory of each other into skin. The music is loud, the air is warm, and somehow everyone’s shirtless. Or kissing. Or both. Everything is a blur of hips and heat and salt, and suddenly I feel wildly overdressed and hilariously inexperienced.
And then Flora appears, gleaming and warm and sure, inviting me to dance. I don’t think. I just light up and nod—thank every God for sending her. “Yes. Gods, yes.”
“That’s fine,” I rasp to no one in particular. “That’s completely fine. I’m thriving.”
The rim of the bar is my anchor as I blink hard, trying to catch up with whatever chaos I just re-entered. The glitter, the sweat, the noise.
Sohalia steps forward, confident in a way that makes the whole room tilt slightly around her. She’s holding a shot glass like it’s a loaded weapon and smiling at
There’s a wink from Mateo that finds me through the madness, and I smile back instinctively, sheepish and uncertain. He looks like he’s having the time of his life, draped in glitter and tequila and Vesper’s hands. Calypso and Kaisel are pressed together like they're trying to burn the memory of each other into skin. The music is loud, the air is warm, and somehow everyone’s shirtless. Or kissing. Or both. Everything is a blur of hips and heat and salt, and suddenly I feel wildly overdressed and hilariously inexperienced.
And then Flora appears, gleaming and warm and sure, inviting me to dance. I don’t think. I just light up and nod—thank every God for sending her. “Yes. Gods, yes.”
occupation: aspiring beam of light
