#lenox.

LENOX “ARIEL” SYED by @lenoxsyed

Within the glass ceiling of the Conservatory, the otherwise cold Chicago air is now without cutting wind, with only sunlight inescapably passing through and heating the building up. You would never find Eoin Dougherty in a place like this, however prized or proud of it the Collective is. The air is thick with heated air and the smell of an assortment of plants, most of which Eoin doesn’t recognise nor cares to learn about, forgoing even reading any placards to check a name. Plants are just plants to him, and he’s never put much stock in them.

His being here is not coincidental. His being here is not even voluntary, and it shows on the look on his face. This is going to be an event with too many people, too many fake smiles, too much interaction, and too much risk. Now, the latter he could deal with; his high risk high reward rule of living put him in this exact situation, and it isn’t something he ever really questioned until this exact day.

A suit. Not just that, a tie. He feels as though between the stifled air, the plants’ perfumes, and the hangman’s noose feigning fashion around his neck, he’s going to suffocate within the next five minutes. And yet, aside from the harsh glare on his face, his folded arms, and the way he refuses to even acknowledge anyone, Eoin stays put. He watches and waits until this traumatic event in his life is over and done with.

First thing he will do is dissolve the godsmitten tie.

And within a second, at the hint — a glance — of a dark-eyed man, Eoin feels his body tense. His feet move before his brain reacts, and even as he sees Lenox Syed approach — he hasn’t noticed him yet, has he? — Eoin is already looking for the nearest place to hide, or to just somehow get away from the impending situation.