It was an odd thing, the way everyone was dressed up, but Jonas had no issue picking her out of the crowd. It was almost too easy. But he knew her, the curve of her back, her shoulders, her hair. He'd spent too long watching her to not be able to pick her out, mask and all. He'd made an effort for the party, donning a suit, that albeit simple and not quite the costume, and a mask, plain black, the plainest he could find. He watched her for a while, then went closer, waiting until she was alone and slipping one hand against her lower back. "You've been popular," he told her, jealousy in his voice.