"Luck of the devil, I swear," Christopher muttered throwing his cards down on the table with a sigh. Tristan grinned and drained the wine from his goblet, pulling his winnings towards him with his free hand.
"The luck of Mallos, more like it," laughed Alex, reaching for a new bottle of wine from the ice bucket behind him. He freed the cork with a pop.
"You guys call it what you like," Tristan said, leaning over the discarded dice and cards to get his goblet as close to Alex as possible, "I call it victory."
"Git," Christopher snorted, knocking Tristan's hand out of the way. Wine splashed onto the carpet. Alex sighed.
"You're both hooligans." He dabbed vainly at the floor with a cloth and then gave up, shrugging his resignation.

They sat sprawled on the floor of Tristan's private sitting room, clustered around the coffee table, and surrounded by a collection of empty drink bottles, discarded jackets and runaway cards. Tristan tapped his finger against the table top as he took another drink of wine. He glanced at the clock in the corner. It was too early to call it a night.
"Let's get out of here," he said, reaching for his coat, "I've had enough of cards."
"Sounds like a plan," Alex agreed, "I'm sick of losing."
"Hate to be a kill-joy," Chris put in, "but we are quite literally trapped in a giant bubble. Where are we going to go?" Tristan considered it.
"There's a tavern at the peaks," he remembered, "probably one of very few so it's bound to be busy."

Tristan locked his chamber door behind him and Alex lead the way down the corridor to the staircase. They'd waited until they heard the guard walk past. They walked circular roots, and the next one wouldn't be along for a good few minutes. Never the less, Tristan followed his friends cautiously, glancing back over his shoulder. He wouldn't have been surprised if his father had suddenly materialised out of the shadows. Alex opened the door to the staircase and the hinges creaked. The sound echoed along the empty corridor and they all froze. Tristan squinted down the corridor. No one seemed to have heard anything. The night remained still. He noticed that the door to Thea's room was slightly ajar, a narrow band of light shining out onto the corridor floor.
"You guys go," he hissed to his friends, "I'll catch up with you. Meet in the gardens." Alex gave him a look, sighed and nodded.
"Fine," he conceded, "but don't take too long." Tristan promised he wouldn't and moved away from the door.

Things had been weird lately. He had grown used to Thea blowing hot and cold on him without any kind of reasonable explanation, but it had started to bother him more and more. If only he could work her out. He enjoyed hanging out with her, and when she was talking to him she was fun and made him laugh. The other times she was the most infuriating person in the universe. Tristan paused outside her door, took a deep breath and knocked.
"Thea!" he hissed, loud enough for her to hear but not so loud as to attract anyone else's attention, "it's me, can I come in?"

Tristan
_{the only thing left are the stars}