daniel seavey imagines

we the party

new year's eve, 11:36pm.

"take a picture, it'll last longer."

you immediately snap out of your trance. heat rushes to your cheeks when you realize that you've been staring. much longer than you should.

you turn away, apologizing.

the tiny clink of a champagne glass lingers in the air between you and him.

you could hear the muffled laughs and cheers blending in with the music booming through the speakers downstairs.

he's the one person in the world you least expected to be here. alone on the rooftop.

he is leaning over the walls, elbows resting on the top, looking out at the night lights, the busy roads.

"how long have you been here?" you ask.

he checks his invisible watch, "long enough for you to come here and see me."

"why aren't you down there?"

"why aren't you down there?"

you shrug, "it's no surprise i'm here. but you? i don't think you'd find a chair for that dance floor anywhere up here."

he looks as if someone'd slapped him, but you're too bold, too daring to take any of it back.

"where's your girlfriend anyway?" you fold your arms across your chest. "or should i say girlfriends?"

he scoffs and laughs dryly, "that's really what you think?"

"that's what i know." you almost feel guilty but after all you've heard about him, he deserves it.

"well if you think so poorly of me, i'm sure there's somewhere else you'd like to be other than in my company."

"you're right," you snap back. "must've been wrong timing."

"possibly."

the champagne swirls in his hand. you've been watching it like he could drop it anytime soon on one of the clumps of cars parked below.

you know it's probably better to leave right then and there, but something's making you stay.

the night is still young. and you're just not ready to go back down yet.

"you don't have to be such a jerk, you know," you look him in the eyes for the first time tonight.

his beautiful eyes. his beautiful bloodshot eyes.

his grip around the glass tightens as the white of his knuckles comes in to view.

before he could break the glass and risk getting a cut, you snatch it out of his hand and take a sip.

the bubbles fire the slight burn in your throat and you immediately feel less tense as a sensation rushes to your head.

when you rest the glass down, he raises an eyebrow and for a split second, you could almost see a smirk play on his lips.

silence. but not really, because all you could hear is the buzzing in your head. all while he stares at the champagne glass on the wall, deep in thought.

"you should know, i don't mean to be a jerk." his apologetic eyes speaking something bigger, something louder than his words.

you give a slow nod, "it's a pity."

"what is?" he asks with confusion. "why?"

"because the stars are bright, the clouds are grey, the moon's half-faded."