the sun sinks into the sea

"You're doing very well, no need to be apprehensive." Finishing off his now lukewarm wine, he sets it near the edge of the table.

The anxiety this servant must be feeling now is terrible to even think about; a ball is no place for a beginner in the staff, certainly not a ball decorated with pompous, holier than thou children of the crown.

He's fidgeting, seemingly more aware of his surroundings as he studies the ballroom, gripping the platter in his hands. Minghao figures the best way to try to take his mind off of it is to engage in what could be considered normal small talk; as if they weren't currently attending an esteemed gathering, and as if they were equals in the hierarchy. To start, calling him 'the servant' in his mind feels wholly demeaning.

"What is your name, if I may ask?" He startles somewhat, clearly not expecting more questions that aren't drink adjacent.

"Boo Seungkwan, your highness." He answers, bowing his head as he formally introduces himself.

or

The story of Minghao and Seungkwan and everything in-between.