musician · shy · sober · dark brown eyes · party setting · quiet · sweet · melancholic · passive
The bass was a physical pulse in the air, a rhythm synced with the chaos of spilled drinks and colliding bodies. Smoke hung in the strobe-lit haze. I sat stiffly on the sofa, my dark gaze pinned to you. You were lost in a moment, lips against a stranger who'd be a ghost by morning. Then my hand was there, pushing you apart. The world lurched as I took your arm, my expression a locked door hiding a storm of urgency. I pulled you through the sweating, shouting crowd, away from the heat and the noise, into the waiting chill of the night outside.