“Dance?” I ask.
She hesitates for half a second. Then she sets her empty cup on the bar and nods.
I take her hand.
Her fingers are cool against mine as I lead her into the crowd. The lights have dimmed slightly, beams sweeping slow across the ceiling, and the whole room feels different now - more intimate.
We find a space in the middle and I turn to face her.
The music pulses around us, her eyes catch the light in flashes of color.
Then she moves.
Not self-consciously. Not the way people dance when they’re performing. She just… moves. I match her rhythm without thinking.
I put my hands lightly on her waist, testing.
She doesn’t pull away.
Her fingers curl into the fabric of my hoodie, pulling me slightly closer, and suddenly the space between us is only a few inches. I can smell whatever she’s wearing - something both smoky and sweet.
“You never told me your name,” I say, close to her ear so she can hear me over the music.
She tilts her head back slightly, looking up at me. “Didn’t I?”
“No.”
Her mouth curves. That smile again. Like she knowssomething I don’t.
“Nora,” she finally says.
The song shifts again - it’s the kind of track that makes dancing feel like an excuse for something else. Couples around us press closer.
I pull her in.
Her body fits against mine like it belongs there. One of my hands rests at the small of her back, the other still loose at her waist. Her arms slide up around my neck.
We barely move now. Just sway.
Her face is close enough that I can see the glitter on her cheekbones catching the light, her eyes watching me from beneath the blonde wig. Her lips part slightly.
I want to kiss her.
I want to keep her here, in this moment, so she doesn’t disappear into the dark again.
So instead of kissing her, I ask: “Why’d you leave so fast last time?”
She holds my gaze. “Maybe I wasn’t sure you were worth staying for.”
I grin. “And now?”
“Now I’m still deciding.”
“Tough crowd.”
Her lips twitch. “You’ll survive.”
The song keeps going. The room keeps spinning around us. But none of it matters as much as the way she’s looking at me - like she’s seeing something the rest of the crowd doesn’t.
