Pecilia endured by Algernon's side for the remainder of the party. People had approached them all night in not-so-subtle attempts to pry information about their relationship, but Pecilia kept intentionally vague, knowing ambiguity would fan the flames of the rumor mills more than anything.
And before she knew it, the twirling orb of color above her head started to shift.
The gathered students stilled as the light gradually dimmed out. The room faded to black, and when a subtle glow emitted from the overheard ball, they began raising their voices in unison with the rising brightness. By the time it relit the entire room in a blazing red luster everyone was yelling, some even throwing their drinks into the air as they looked to their hands to see if they were infected or not. And like every year, a high minority of the students' palms glowed red.
The infected wasted no time and stripped to the encouragement of their classmates' cheers. Clothes littered the floor and were picked up by the unaffected, who chased the crowd of naked bodies full fronting the way to the god of destruction's shrine.
Pecilia glanced over her hands. They were of course yellow because she was smart enough to not let anyone touch her. And also, because Algernon's dark heavy scowl did an exemplary job of scaring others away. Which he still maintained even now.
Though Algernon was relieved for the party's end, the night had been a great drain of his energy. He massaged a tight knot at the joint of his jaws while proceeding to one of the exits without so much as a look back.
Pecilia watched Algernon, thinking it was so rude of him to leave without a thank you. She rolled her eyes at the sad little cold boy's brooding back and made to follow the other students, knowing that if she laid down now, her restless thoughts would keep her awake, only contributing to her ever-growing insomnia.