The glass in Mark's hand slipped, shattering into sharp shards on the floor. His body suddenly trembled, in sync with his pounding heart. His breath came in gasps, while cold sweat began to trickle down his temples, accompanied by a faint whisper.
"Seren?"
His gaze darted wildly, trying to catch sight of the figure in the distance—Seren, standing about two meters away from him.
Mark's body suddenly swayed as he lost his balance. In that very moment, he accidentally bumped into a passing waiter, causing the drink the waiter was carrying to spill and stain Mark's clothes—leaving behind a strong, jumbled odor.
The server reflexively apologized, his face panicked. However, Mark merely raised his hand briefly, signaling that he was fine, though a frustrated sigh escaped him as he couldn't hide his frustration at the stain left on his clothes.
