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perhaps he was, in a way. " .. i can't have people around me that i can't trust ," he continues, still refusing to turn in his direction.
" how can i trust you, sylus ?"
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turning his back, he intends to walk away, though his feet refuse to move— glued to their spot. " .. yeah. yeah, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒕. " he glances over his shoulder, brows knit together as if he were actually in pain.
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“ i don't see how my business affairs concern you . ”
his tone forms a scoff ˎ almost unbelieving now —— he takes a step back too ˎ as if to distance further both physical and mental .
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his eyes dart around the venue briefly, cheeks dusting a soft pink despite the way he tries to hide it. " i'll warn you now, i may have two left feet ."
it's just barely a mumble, gaze finally returning to meet his.
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letting silence stretch for a moment, he sets the flute of champagne aside. his hand reaches to place his palm within the others as he brings himself to stand.
he was hardly a dancer; he'd never been taught— nor asked.
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sylus was not particularly fond of events such as these ˎ as he too found it a bore —— amidst people under their own selfish agendas . through the crowd ˎ potentially looking for a seat himself ˎ he sees a familiar face .