Finally, I land onhim—the man with the eyes like beacons of light.
Hesitant, I first look at his hands, resting relaxed on the evaluation form, holding a pen between his fingers. My gaze travels upward over his forearms. Defined muscles are visible beneath the tight-fitting black T-shirt, and his posture tells me he must be a dancer. However, I don't know who he is or why he sits at the jury table.
At his neck, I notice a twitch under the skin, right where a nearly imperceptible vein protrudes. It comes and goes in sync with the rhythm of my pounding heart.
I hold my breath, observing his clean-shaven face with the curved lips and the slender nose. How symmetrical his cheekbones are. And how flawless his skin.
There they are again—his eyes. The beacon of light is gone, replaced by something else.
A whole firework that I suddenly feel in my chest. Just like when I entered the room earlier and our gazes met for the very first time, he captivates me. So much so that I forget everything around me.
I hear nothing, smell nothing, and taste nothing. There are only his eyes and the indescribable feeling they evoke in me.
"The next, please." The sharp tone of the academy's director abruptly bursts the soap bubble in which the stranger has me floating.
Abruptly, I look around and realize I'm standing alone in the center of the dance floor. Enzo has long left the floor.
Heat rises inside me, rapidly spreading to my cheeks. Feeling embarrassed, I lower my gaze, bow briefly, and hurriedly stumble out of the dance hall.
