𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 | 𝘈𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘳

𝑬𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞.

𝑬𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅,
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞.

───── ❝ 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ❞ ─────

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕,
𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐨, 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚.

Alcohol wasn't something Averee Burr usually drank, but gala's called for them, it was the only way she'd make it through. One lousy champagne flute was all she got, but she tried her best to make it work. Whilst she wasn't used to alcohol, she was used to making appearances, faking smiles and forcing laughs. Averee had quickly become accustomed to gala's, first when her husband became governor and now when he was running for Senator, again.

FBI Gala's in particular were an important part of her life, even if she didn't like them, she'd attend them quarterly at her husband's side - even if he left her as soon as they walked in - her husband insisted on attending all the gala's, trying to boost his popularity with as many people as possible. And this quarter, John Burr was adamant that he'd win the Senator election.

It wasn't hard work supporting John's campaign, however, it was hard work pretending she gave a shit about the investors and the money, the power. Averee tried her best to be a supportive wife, in fact, she probably tried too hard. She watched him closely, spreading his campaign, splashing his cash in support of certain departments.

The Burr Foundation had always been a hefty donor, this gala was no different, John believed it helped him gain more political capital, and he swore it was almost definite that he'd become the Senator of Virginia. In John's eyes, money could buy anything.

So there Averee stood, leaning against the bar in a floor length silk dress, with nobody paying attention to her. She was used to being the 'eye candy', no Senator had been elected without someone to play that role, being something pleasant for the men to look at as they discussed politics, policies and pay, she sipped her flute of champagne silently, eyes scanning across the room.

The gala's were always too tedious for her taste, too white-collar, her own work parties were those of fantasies - wild, with shots being downed at every opportunity, the cheapest liquor with the highest alcohol percentage - that's what she was told anyway, she'd never been in attendance.

And despite being forced into the role of the doting wife, Averee was damn well good at it. Faking smiles, forcing laughs, she was the perfect model of a Senator's wife - seen and not heard, she hid her insecurities well and fit into the atmosphere of wealth and fortune seamlessly. At least she hoped.

Her emerald eyes flickered across the room, one hand on her glass of champagne, the other fiddling with the long sleeves of her gown, she was bored in expression as she repeatedly looked around the room, until she double-took at one of the cloth-covered circular tables in the back. It was a sight she'd never seen at any FBI gala, scratch that, at any gala.

The tight-knit group shared genuine laughter, raising a mix of different glasses and toasting them together, another round of giggles, a wolf whistle from a man as the brunette woman danced teasingly, downing a shot. Averee couldn't take her eyes off them, it was the first time she'd seen genuine laughter all night, an amused smile pulled at her lips.