It was almost frigid in the Grand Ballroom- a combination of cooling runes on every crevice and the frosty stares the dinner guests were directing to each other. Jellal downed the remainder of his drink carefully, twisting his wrist tightly enough for a spasm of pain to cross his features. Moments like these were the ones when he needed to remind himself more than ever what he was here for- bringing down the Magic Council, not instating himself into it.
Yajima-san glided over, his toes brushing the iced glass like a dancer in sleep, laying his fingers on Jellal's shoulder with a pracised sympathy. "Chin up, Sieg, not enjoying the party?"
The party is fine- Jellal thought absently- the party is perfect. And he did belong here, after all, he was as fake as the plastic plant in the corner. He slowly pasted a smile on his face.
"The party is gorgeous, simply. I highly accredit the organizers- not even I would have chosen a more ill matched set of guests."
Yajima-san winced. "I see what you mean."
Jellal looked over at his colleague's face, old and weathered. It would be almost a shame to destroy him. Almost.
"I just-"He stopped himself. He just what?
There were some mornings when he woke and staggered out of bed retching and sick, his throat clamped so tight he was sure he would choke- on his despair, on his disgust. There were some moments- like this one- in which he wished that the face beside him was not Yajima- san's but Rob's, when there was Wally and Sho` and maybe Milliana twirling around and around the dance floor, gasping and giggling, when he would turn and dance with a girl of Scarlet, his hand over hers, his fingers on her waist.
But the moments were moments, they slipped by his empty hands like a fast rushing stream, and he was Zeref's messenger, but couldn't he be the boy left behind, the boy at the Tower.
Jellal turns. Jellal smirks.
"I just wish they would serve better champagne here. This stuff tastes like club soda."
Yajima-san roared with laughter, and slapped him on the back- a ringing slap. "Here's looking at you kid." Called over his shoulder as he staggered backed into the ice.
Jellal stood abandoned in the corner, and let the champagne glass slip out of his hand.
"Here's looking at me."