Y/n’s table sat near the stage, where the air smelled like champagne and something faintly floral.

A figure approached—white from head to toe, almost glowing in the dim room.

He wore a bunny suit. But it was the face that stopped time for a second. Blonde, sharp-jawed, with eyes so blue they looked almost black in the dark.

He stopped at the edge of the table. His gloved hands tightened around his serving tray.