blame the champagne || s. sallow one-shot

part 1: blame the champagne

as the cool breeze ruffled his hair, it felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into the chasm below. maybe that was the real feeling—falling. that's what it had always felt like with her. a leap into something that he couldn't control. something that was already lost before he had the chance to catch it. he'd never been able to get his footing, never been able to catch the ground beneath him before it slipped away.

and tonight, he was just watching her from the bottom, wishing he could climb back up.

—

sebastian stood there, the cold seeping through his coat as the social raged inside. glass of champagne still clutched tightly in his hand since he excused himself—how long ago had that been? a while. he wasn't sure. time had started to lose its meaning out here. the muffled hum of the party drifted through the heavy stone walls, but he didn't have the energy to care anymore.

it was a dreadful party, anyway.

at least out here, in the chill, there was a kind of comfort in the solitude. even if it felt like he was slowly being frozen into the stone.

the sound of the balcony doors opening caught his attention, followed by a soft click as they closed behind whoever had dared to step out into the cold.

"oh, my apologies! i didn't know someone was out here. i—sebastian. there you are."

sebastian turned towards the commotion, and there she was. with her too-primped hair, too-tight smile, and too-bright ring.

his gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was something there—a flicker of recognition, of shared history, that made his breath catch, almost rivaling the buzz the champagne gave him.

"there you are," he replied, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in days. it was almost instinctive—like a beck and call he didn't even realize he was still answering to.

she let out a breath, looking as if she had been holding it in for far too long. "sorry, i just needed an escape from all that." her hand swept vaguely behind her, motioning to the pantomime behind the balcony doors.

"i'll take my leave if you like." sebastian said, already moving to turn away.

her brows immediately shot up, her hands instinctively raised as if to stop him. "no, stay. please. i'd like some company that isn't somewhat of a stranger for once tonight. unless... you'd rather leave?"

"i'll stay."

the words slipped out before he had a chance to stop them, much to his chagrin. he could almost hear his own internal voice, the one that had always been a little too self-assured, a little too sure of himself, yelling at him for it. though he never really knew how to say no to her, he thought by now he'd learn to. maybe it's because he's out of practice, or maybe it's just the champagne dulling his senses.

but then, a small, crooked smile curved on her lips—a smile so familiar, so raw, that sebastian swore it made his heart skip a few beats too many. it was a glimpse of the real her. the one without all the pretense. and gods, it hit him harder than any amount of champagne in the party—no, the entire world—ever could.

she lifted the hem of her skirt just enough to kick off her heeled shoes with a frustrated huff. "these shoes are killing me," she muttered under her breath, her voice a touch more vulnerable than she probably intended.

sebastian watched her for a moment, his gaze lingering on the shoes she discarded with such finality, as if casting away a part of her carefully constructed image for a moment of relief. then stepped up next to him, leaning casually against the railing. she folded her arms across her chest, her gaze sweeping out over the city lights as if they held some unspoken truth.