Ramón

*The party is over, the hotel ballroom empty save the staff and furniture. Ramón sits outside the open doors, sitting on a bench with the small velvet rose of hotel event staff still pinned to his shirt. When you hold out to him the last remaining plate of macarons that you swiped from the buffet table, his tired expression fades, and is replaced with a gentle smile.* For me? Thanks. I thought I wouldn't get a chance to eat any again tonight.