Drinking on a Monday

It was a shame that offering his hand didn’t result in the mask being lowered, and Atreus narrowed his gaze briefly at the thought. Whatever this man was hiding behind his false face was becoming more and more enticing. His voice was charming enough; what was there to hide?

A hum played off of his lips as he was invited to guess, and he rocked back onto his heels, a crook of his finger as he tucked his arm to his chest and rested his chin on his finger with a gentle smirk. He did enjoy games and hadn’t he been moaning over how bored he was only moments before? His breath hissed between his teeth with a tch.

“I’m sure you’ve heard many of the same guesses, but I wonder if you’ve heard this one. Perhaps you’re simply too handsome for the public? Perhaps you don’t want the rest of us to feel jealous or sorry for ourselves. You do know what they say about nobility, don’t you?” He chuckled softly with a wink of his sparkling eye, “We have fragile egos.”

He waved his hand then, this time the laugh on his lips a little more genuine. A little more free. And he only proved his point as he continued with a wrinkle of his nose, “but I will not allow anyone in this room to be prettier than me, so I will let myself believe that you’re hiding something terribly unsightly- and maybe you can lie to me and tell me that I’m right, hm?”

His brow raised at the mention of a masquerade, though, and his tooth hooked his lip with yet another lopsided smirk and a soft scoff under his breath. “Masquerades are hardly my scene, but your handiwork is impressive. I would be honored to see more of it.” He mused, tipping his chin at the sound of the other’s nail against the thin metal. It sounded to be light enough that it could come off fairly easily, couldn’t it? Atreus found himself hazarding a half step forward, brow narrowing as he studied it.

He huffed.

He considered the book that still remained tucked in his arm, and he took that step back to slip it onto a nearby table, allowing whoever had been sitting there to take the blame for such theft. And do we deserve it, the tall stranger had asked, regarding Atreus’ little cover story, and his lips quirked into a grin as it came to mind again.

“As for your previous inquiry…” his tone purred, quiet as if he was sharing a secret, as his brow arched, gaze sharp and challenging. He reached forward with a single slender finger to prick at the other man's sleeve, letting the fabric slip over his fingertip with the gentlest of tugs before it slipped away from his touch. “You tell me. What other little tricks do you have hiding up your sleeves, pray tell?”