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<b><i>God I hate this.</i></b><br/>
<br/>
Cyrus stared down into his red cup of whatever had been poured into the giant punch bowl on the table he stood beside. He brought it to his nose for a sniff, wincing at the strong scent of what he knew to be tequila – New Amsterdam. Fortunately, the possibility of him getting too drunk was impossible – not enough to kill compared to his fleshy mates who’s livers were shrinking by the second. That didn’t mean he enjoyed the taste, but he needed something to get through tonight – anything that would help with dulling out the many voices in his head. He was usually good about staying out of people’s heads, especially his own friends who he'd known for so many years, they were practically a family. Still, it was quite hard to push out and ignore over fifty flying thoughts – especially because he was unfamiliar with the lot in his living room. By now it had become a tradition though to throw a semester party at their home. Most of the kids from campus stayed in the dorms or were still staying with their parents – the unsupervised and wild time that Cyrus and the others offered couldn’t be passed up and for that, they were kind of popular.<br/>
<br/>
This wasn’t high school though. He’d gotten over that twenty years ago. Honestly after graduating from highschool ten times, it not only got a bit repetitive, but kind of hellish. In a way Cyrus felt like he was in purgatory. College allowed for a bit more freedom, less issues and well, considering they had made Twin Peaks their home – they had no choice but to matriculate. Despite how chaotic these nights were, it only further seemed to cement their place in this world and Cyrus had to admit . . . These kinds of nights did make him feel more human.<br/>
<br/>
But that had only lasted for so long. There was a gust of wind then, a new flood of people coming through the doors. The scent was hard to ignore whether it be from how strong the wind was, or the fact that it truly was sweet, but it was definitely hard to ignore. Golden eyes swam over the heads of people dancing and chatting in their living room. Cyrus’ nose flared, the hairs of his nostrils tickled. There was a burning in his throat, one that stretched down and expanded into a ball of fire in the empty pit of his stomach. He smacked his lips, as though tasting the perfumed air.<br/>
<br/>
“What the fuck are you doing?” Cyrus jumped at the large hand that rocked against his shoulder. He looked up to meet the startling bright gaze of Tatum – the reason behind these parties starting in the first place. He’d always been a bit wild, too confident in his abilities but Cyrus had to admit that since they moved to Twin Peaks, Tatum had learned to control his hunger much easier. There’d been a time when the whole living room would be destroyed just keeping him from one person.<br/>
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</div></div>His head swiveled toward the door that had been closed, the scent lost now in a mass of bodies sweating vodka, the good stuff because money meant nothing to them. Cyrus’ brows bunched in the middle of his forehead and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. Though, it was for the good. Right?<br/>
“You should be out there, mingling. You know how many girls are here just to hook up with you?” Tate looked at Cyrus before cracking an even larger grin. “Right right, not your style.” Tatum’s British charm did come in handy and Cyrus liked to think it was what got people to trust them, despite the innate trait in all humans that just knew, but not why, that they were not to get too close to them.<br/>
“This is way more people than last time.” Cyrus said. The last thing they needed was trouble.<br/>
“Relax Cy, I’ve got it handled. What’s the worst that could happen?” Cyrus down the rest of his drink,  watching as Tatum headed out through the crowd, his arm wrapping around a young girl’s waist smoothly as though they weren’t two strangers. Charm came naturally, but something about that raspy British accent definitely added to it.<br/>
<br/>
Tatum looked over his shoulder and winked at Cyrus before mouthing for him to get off he fucking wall. He snorted but kicked off. He’d just make sure things were good before disappearing upstairs, which everyone knew by now was an absolute no go zone. The two story house had plenty of places to hook up anyways.  Cyrus was actually about to head outside toward the deck when he caught the scent again and while some part of him thought it best not to head toward temptation, he found it hard to ignore this carnal desire in him.</div></div></div></div></div>