High [Boy X Boy]

48 - Anxiety For The Shameful

(Song Recommendation: The Royal - Not Thinking Of You [Official Lyric Video.])

"Does it seem too excessive...?" Vulture asked with a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck anxiously.

Chandeliers of gold hung from the ceiling, their diamonds reflecting the lights brighter than the sun. Their warm gaze burnt the pale skin of the rich women's shoulders, painted with too much foundation and other powders. The sound of crackling flames enacted from the large kitchen, fires bursting from pans and sizzling bubbles popping every few moments amongst the smoke and heat.

Drunk laughs and joyful "chitter chatter" flooded each and every hall and room, groups as large as seven sat around cloth-wrapped tables. It almost seemed like a wedding full of strangers, talking about the nonsense of last Tuesday. Link thought about the cares he could give for all of the couples, losing track of Vulture's voice.

As his body fell into a state of sleep and the voices became quieter and quieter, a certain snapping of the fingers kicked him back into place. His eyes shocked themselves awake and he pushed a smile onto his face to turn politely and speak in the most formal tone possible as if he was one with the rich monotone values that the restaurant had to offer.

"It's quite busy as a matter of fact but I guess that's a good thing... I wouldn't want the place to be dead quiet and the chefs have to listen to an awkward conversation between the two of us." He grinned weakly, lifting up his glass of champagne and swirling the golden liquid around amongst the protection of the clear material.

Link had no idea on what he was talking about but needed to say something fast before he seemed too awkward.

What was he thinking? He was acting awkward enough already just staring at Vulture. Don't have thoughts about a speech you could blurt out. Just ask him something! His mind screeched in pain and embarrassment with red cheeks of anxiety.

"Do you come to places like this often? Y'know... Fancy restaurants?"

"Well... Before I met you, yes... It was often the case of taking out women... Taking them home... Getting them drunk... And then clearing up the body..." Vulture explained with a smirk, lifting up his glass of wine and taking a sip. "Do you really have to say that when we're in a restaurant?" Link sighed, taking a sip of his champagne and cringing from the flavour. It was strong, rich and the most disgusting thing he had ever drunk. He listened to Vulture's beauty-touched laugh, watching as he put down his glass with a pretty smile on his lips, clearing his face's impurities.

"Didn't like that, did you?" The taller male smirked, fluttering his fingers with his elbow pressed to the table.

The taste was sour and almost salty and the golden colour matched the chandelier's crystals like expensive jewels amongst moonlight. His lungs choked on the liquid, a certain paleness growing in his face and his eyes welling up with a painful warmth. His cheeks lit up red like cherries with rushing blood as he coughed, pounding a fist against his chest violently. Of course, Vulture was a little worried and he made an attempt to take Link's empty water glass to fill from the water in his own full glass. Before he could, the younger male had already snatched his idea.

"It's fucking disgusting..." He muttered, putting down the champagne glass and taking Vulture's water to down most of it. "Y'know, you could have just asked..." Vulture took back his glass with a chuckle. "I like to take people by surprise..." Link smiled, pushing his hair behind his ear.

"Oh... I know you do..."

He could feel his insecurities leaning against the nearest wall, staring him down with damned smirks and wide eyes. He listened as the mouths opened and let out cries of fantastic laughter that made his stomach curl into knots and his fingers crawl over the white tablecloths. His fingers bathed in the cold fabric as he sighed in unkempt pain and fear. Despite his calm expression and lack of trembles and ice-kissed shivers, his heart was pounding faster than a train could shoot over the tracks.