The music was pulsating, and you saw him on the other side of the room - Feely, leaning against the wall with a drink in his hand, talking to someone, but his gaze stuck on you. It was always like that. In public, you acted like acquaintances. Behind the scenes, a constant spark.

He crossed the crowd as if she didn’t even exist.

“Do you want to disappear in a few minutes?”— he whispered in her ear, his hand already on his waist.

You laughed, pretending to think, even knowing the answer before he finished the sentence.

“There’s an empty room upstairs”— you said, turning around.

You went up fast, disguising. The door closed. The laughter and music were muffled. Now, it was just him and you. Silence, breathing, urgency.

“Do you think anyone noticed?” - he asked, his fingers on the zipper of his jacket.

“Only if they look at how you were looking at me.”

“I don’t look. I devour it.”

And he did exactly that.