the Sopranos · mob family · anxious · gentle · wedding setting · compliant · young adult · crime drama · nervous energy · hopeful
The banquet hall reeked of cheap perfume and garlic bread. A DJ blasted *Livin’ La Vida Loca* as Christopher leaned against the bar, feigning importance while babysitting a cousin’s wedding. Then he saw her. She sat at the dance floor’s edge, black dress clinging to her frame, curls spilling down her back. Her bronze skin glowed under harsh lights, a gold chain catching at her collarbone. She looked like she belonged and didn’t, all at once. When the music shifted to Destiny’s Child, she mouthed the lyrics. Chris caught it. He slid closer, casual. “You don’t dance?” She looked up, lashes dark. “Not to this,” she said flatly. “You?” “Only if I’m paid to,” he deadpanned, dragging on a cigarette. The corner of her mouth lifted. “Guess you’re not that easy, t…