After entering the lavishly decorated hall, I tolerated a handful of introductions, empty platitudes, and compliments. It didn’t take long for the overwhelming amount of auras looming around me to cause the beginnings of a headache to appear. As soon as I was able, I delicately slipped away through the throng of people. There were scattered tables, covered in fine dining cloths, that held various bite-sized snacks and desserts elegantly arranged on circular, tiered towers. Pausing at the snack table, I decided what I really needed was a drink. I located a beverage table and selected a glass of red wine. Sipping as I went, I carefully maneuvered to the outskirts of the hall without becoming entangled in any more meaningless and drawn-out conversations. How was I already this drained when I hadn’t even been here for an hour? Crying my eyes out with my parents probably didn’t do me any favors, especially since I had to get my hair and makeup redone after the fact.

I felt somewhat stifled by the tightness of the chest and waist of my sage green dress. Even my feet began to ache from wearing the newly purchased dark forest green heels. Luckily, the spot I found provided some distance from those socializing and milling about within the central area of the massive space. A series of large, round columns continued around the oval-shaped hall, separating a walkway that created the atrium’s outer perimeter, with grand doors branching off to the North, West, East, and South. I was closest to the northern exit, which led out into the palace gardens. Each column had a square base that provided a ledge at the perfect height for me to lightly sit on without betraying that I was lounging about at first glance.

I leaned my back against one of the columns with a decent view of the main southern entrance, those gathering into cliques, and others ambling about. When I noticed a waiter making the rounds with a beverage tray, I swallowed the last of my wine and swapped that glass for a new one. My eyes scanned faces, outfits, and scenarios that unfolded before me absentmindedly. As people were still trickling in, I was reminded that the night was far from over. A heavy sigh poured out of me at the thought, taking away a bit of the tension I’d been holding as it left me. I could manage. I’d already discovered a little pocket of peace, and there was always more wine. My inner monologue prompted me to sip my wine once more. 

“Not your favorite crowd?” A deep voice murmured from the walkway, slightly behind where I was leaning against the wide column.

“Not particularly, no,” I sighed in reply, shifting my eyes beneath my lowered lashes to try to catch a glimpse of whoever approached me, with no luck. I decided not to bother facing this stranger, introducing myself, or even acknowledging his existence beyond what I had already done. Although he hadn’t grown nearer, I could feel his presence linger.

I raised my wine glass to my lips and continued nonchalantly surveying the atrium and those gathered within it. The man lowly chuckled, “Are you here for business or pleasure? By the looks of it, I’d venture that I could rule out pleasure.”

“How astute. You could say that I am here for business,” I slowly swirled the last few sips that were left within my glass, staring blankly into the whirlpool of red liquid. I didn’t feel the need to elaborate further.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” Even without seeing his face, I could hear in his voice that he seemed to be amused by something.

“I answered your questions. What else is there to say?” After another long sigh escaped me, I began to raise my glass to my lips once more.

“Hmm… What about your name?” At his words, my glass stopped just short of my lips.

“It was you who approached me and spoke. Why should I give out my name when I have not received yours?” Although each of my previous responses had been monotone and concise, I began to hear a sliver of annoyance in my voice as I tossed back his suggestion of an introduction. I sighed once more and emptied my glass.

“Ah, apologies. You are right. I suppose I got ahead of myself. Since it seems we both prefer to separate ourselves from the oppressiveness of supernatural high society, why don’t we try only first names? Let’s forego all the fancy and rehearsed introductions, titles, and affiliations for now. It might be fun to talk only as ourselves. I’ll go first. My name is Theory. I also go by Theo.” His low voice rambled on hesitantly at first, then flowed more comfortably before becoming more excited like soft, rolling thunder.  As he spoke, I waved down a waiter and replaced my empty glass with a fresh one. I weighed my options between continuing the conversation or finding a new corner to tuck myself away in and decided that listening to him drone on wasn’t necessarily bothersome. Plus, if not for his presence, still outside my field of view, someone truly annoying could come along. I noted the waiter as he took a few steps past where I was perched and heard the man thank him.

As I watched the waiter flit away through the crowd, I took another long sip and finally said, “… I guess I could play along. It’s not like I have anything better to do. My name is Juniper.”

“Juniper…” As my name rolled off his tongue, it sounded as if he were savoring it. I heard a tentative step towards the column that I was still leaning against before he paused, “No quips about the name Theory? People usually ask what there is to explain or if I have a sibling named Hypothesis.”

I stifled a laugh at his horrible joke, surprising even myself, “Well, I cannot say too much when I, myself, was named after a shrub. However, I do not think that 'Theory' is a bad name; it’s unique and refreshing. It’s not a name that could be easily forgotten.”

“What a kind way to say that my name is odd. I thought we decided to forego the tediousness of societal expectations.” His steps drew near, and at the sound of rustling clothing, I assumed that he leaned against the left side of the column I was in front of. This time, my sigh sounded more like the beginnings of a laugh.

“Hah… We did, and because of that, I told the truth. It’s a cool name. Wouldn’t it be boring to be named… I don’t know, Matthew or Paul? Not very memorable.” My body relaxed a bit further into the column as I continued scanning in front of me.

“So, you place more value in uniqueness than tradition? Maybe I have found someone of like mind after all. Many people in these circles appear to be primarily concerned with maintaining the status quo or upholding long-standing traditions. Most people are hesitant to invite change or accept those who are or want to be different. Ah, I’m just talking your ear off… Besides just my name, how am I holding up in your estimations?” With his voice much closer than before, I was drawn back to the comparison of rolling thunder. He spoke quietly, in a low tone that resonated throughout physical matter. I could practically feel his voice through the column that supported us both. It became increasingly more soothing the longer we spoke. Unsure if it was because his voice was softening over time or if I was becoming more accustomed to it, I absentmindedly took a sip.

“Your voice is nice.” I froze. I hadn’t meant to voice that opinion out loud, but he did ask about my estimations of him.

“Is that all?” He chuckled, and the column vibrated in answer.

“It reminds me of thunder and how it rumbles. Very deep and powerful, yet soft and soothing.” The words flowed from my mouth unbidden. My cheeks began to flush. I was not usually this brazen. I hadn’t drunk that much yet, had I?

“It seems you rate my voice highly, which I appreciate. I have never had my voice complemented so passionately before. Although what I meant was, is there anything else besides my voice you could comment on?” His quiet laughter felt suppressed. I could only assume that he held back either to save my feelings or avoid drawing attention to our little safe haven. My face felt like it was engulfed in flames, and I was happy that he couldn’t see it. I looked down into my wine glass for a moment. Only a third was left. As I gathered my observations about Theory and organized my thoughts, I began to get nervous that I was taking too long to answer. But then, I was too anxious to voice the words that I wanted to say. Aw, fuck it. I gulped down the last of my drink.

While I stared into my empty glass, I slowly worked through the words that I had planned out. “Theory… Oddly enough… I feel comfortable here… Talking to you like this. I rarely talk to anyone. I’m not someone who typically opens up to or even enjoys being around many people. What I’m trying to say is… You don’t annoy me. So, I guess my estimation of you is pretty high at the moment.”

“Not annoying… I’ll take that as high praise, Juniper. Talking with you is nice for me too. But if I had to describe your voice-”

“Oh no, is this going to be a running joke now? I might die of embarrassment.” I laughed weakly and covered my face with my free hand.

“Milk and honey.” Theory’s voice sounded so earnest that it made me pause.

“What?” I blinked, almost turning to look at him, but instead, I waved over a waiter and set down my empty glass. I pressed my fingers to my lips and waited for him to speak again.

“Your voice, the best way I could think to describe it, is that your voice reminds me of warm milk and honey in the winter.” He still sounded so earnest, and, for a moment, I was filled with curiosity. What expression is he making? What does he look like? Does he look like he sounds? Does he truly mean it? But above all else, I wanted to know the answer to one question.

“What else do you think of me so far?” My fingertips slightly muffled the words, and they seemed to come out as little more than a whisper.