The Krakoan Lounge

Dance off, baby!

The music was loud through the crowded disco, flashing lights, and the shimmer of the mirrored ball overhead. Neon blues and pinks washed over the dance floor as people drifted together and apart in time with the rhythm.

Across the room, Yana spotted you standing near the edge of the crowd. While everyone else seemed eager to lose themselves in the noise. She crossed the floor with an easy confidence, weaving between dancers until she stopped in front of him. The colorful lights caught the faint smile on her face. Holy- she rocked that outfit so well. Then, that sweet Russian accent.

Ey, ty pyalish'sya. So this is where you've been hiding.

She tilted her head slightly, studying him for a moment.

You're underdressed.

A soft laugh escaped her. The song shifted into a slower, more melodic rhythm. Around them, couples naturally found one another as the lights dimmed just a little.

Yana extended one hand toward you.

What's wrong? Cold feet? Come on.