Both Neville and Ethan looked up.

Grayson stood there, his silver eyes cold, fixed on Ethan. His jaw was tight, and Neville could see the muscle jumping there—a sign of barely contained anger.

Ethan didn’t flinch. He tilted his head, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "What’s the matter?"

Grayson’s voice came out low and measured. "What are you doing?"

"Hm? Nothing much." Ethan echoed, a hint of mockery threading through his tone. "We were just talking."

"Didn’t look like talking," Grayson replied.

His words were calm, but the air around him felt heavy, as if he was ready to snap.

For a long moment, neither man moved.

The air between them crackled with tension, and the two were in a deadlocked lock silent battle of nerves.

Then Ethan laughed, short and humorless, the sound cutting through the quiet like a blade. He stepped back, hand falling away from the wall, leaving Neville free to move.

But Ethan wasn’t done. He looked Grayson up and down, his usual smile returning. "You think you can get him just like that? You’re dreaming."

Grayson’s expression didn’t change. His reply was soft, almost dismissive. "Like you can either."

The words hit harder than any shout could have.

Ethan’s smirk faltered. His eyes flicked between Grayson and Neville—anger, frustration, and something unspoken swirling there. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked away, disappearing around the corner.

Silence settled in his wake, broken only by the distant thump of music from the main party space.

Grayson exhaled slowly. "Are you alright?"

Neville nodded, though his heart was still racing. "Yeah... didn’t expect that."

Grayson’s gaze lingered on the hallway where Ethan had vanished. "Neither did I."

Neville gestured helplessly after Ethan’s retreating figure. "What did he mean? What just happened there?"

Grayson didn’t answer right away. His silver eyes searched Neville’s face, quiet and unreadable. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Then he sighed and raked a hand through his black hair. "Ethan’s been watching you. I’ve noticed it for a while now."

"Watching me?" Neville blinked, alarm tightening in his chest. "What for?"

"I don’t know." Grayson’s voice dropped, low and tense. "At first, I thought it had something to do with the company, but lately... it doesn’t seem like that anymore."

Neville frowned. "What do you mean?"

Grayson’s jaw tightened again. "I don’t know either."

"Either way, I don’t like what he’s doing. He corners you at work, finds excuses to talk to you, follows you around, openly or secretly. It’s..." He hesitated, searching for the right word. "Concerning."

Neville’s mind spun. He had known Ethan was curious about him—interested, as per his own words—but he had brushed it off as nothing more than nosiness. Not... whatever this was. Not those deeply concerning implications, what did he know anyway?

"What could he possibly want?" he murmured out loud, more to himself than to Grayson.

Grayson’s gaze didn’t waver. "That’s what concerns me too."

Neville looked up sharply. "And what about what he said? That thing about you?"

For a heartbeat, something flickered in Grayson’s expression—something dark, quick, and unreadable—but then it was gone.

"That’s not important."

"It sounded important," Neville pressed.

"Neville."

Grayson’s tone softened, gentle but firm. It seemed to bother him enough to call him by his name.

"Let it go. For now."

Neville stared at him, frustrated. There was definitely more to this story—he could feel it—but from Grayson’s expression, he had already completely raised his walls against him. And he knew better than to keep pushing when Grayson put one up.

Instead, Neville focused on the fact that his boss—his straight-laced, workaholic boss—had apparently been paying enough attention to notice Ethan’s behavior. He had cared enough to intervene this time.

The warm feeling from earlier returned, settling in Neville’s chest like sunlight dispersing his previous grievances.

"Thank you," Neville said quietly. "For... that. I didn’t realize he was being that obvious."

"You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone anymore," Grayson replied, his tone steady. His hand was still on Neville’s shoulder—warm. "Not after what happened before. If he bothers you again, tell me. Or Bryan. Or security. Just tell someone."

Neville nodded, feeling a little sheepish. "Right. Yeah. Got it."

They stood there for another moment, the weight of unspoken things hanging between them. Then Grayson’s hand dropped, and he stepped back, giving Neville space.

"We should head back," Grayson said after a pause. "Before Sarah sends out a search party."

Neville managed to show a faint smile, concealing the fact that he felt a little empty after Grayson let him go.

"Yeah. Probably a good idea."

They walked back toward the main venue together, close enough that their shoulders occasionally brushed. Neville’s mind was still spinning, trying to piece together what had just happened—and what it meant.

[That was interesting~] Shelly commented, extremely amused and excited. [Very interesting indeed. (.♥‿♥.)]

Not now, Neville retorted.

[But host! The tension! The drama! The way he confronted that madman for you! This is—]

Neville mentally slammed the door to Shelly’s voice, shutting it out. He had to deal with that particular headache later. For now, he could enjoy the party for the rest of the night.

When they returned to the table, Sarah immediately latched onto Neville’s arm. "There you are! We were about to start the drinking games without you!"

"Drinking games?" Neville repeated weakly with a wary smile.

"Oh yes," Bryan said, his grin positively wicked. "You didn’t think we would let you off easy, rookie?"

Neville looked at Grayson for help. But Grayson only lifted his hands in surrender, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Don’t look at me," Grayson said with an amused smile. "I’m staying out of this one."

"Traitor," Neville muttered in despair.

Sarah laughed and dragged him toward the now crowded table, where rows of shot glasses gleamed under the lights like soldiers waiting for battle.

As Neville resigned himself to his fate, he glanced back and caught Grayson watching him from the side. Their eyes met, and Grayson’s lips curled into a smile.

Despite everything, Neville found himself smiling back.

Maybe interstellar parties weren’t so terrible after all.