Changing cities, pace, life. You chose an intense major, architecture and thought that would define you completely. Study, excel, stay in control. You've never been one to improvise. You never allowed yourself the luxury of acting on impulse. Until tonight.

The welcome party organized by students from different faculties, they dragged you to wasn’t in your plans. Loud, full of strangers, flashing lights that make your head spin a little, and a drink you can't remember if it’s your second or fourth. But you're laughing. You're alive. And something—or someone—catches your eye.

Her.

Messy hair, drink in hand, shameless smile. She moves through the crowd like she’s floating. You can’t tell if you looked at her first or if she chose you with her gaze. What matters is that now she’s here, right in front of you, eyes sparkling and voice barely audible over the music.

"You have… pretty lips."

You say something—or try to. You're not sure if it’s your tongue or your heart that got tangled. She laughs, and looks at you like she already knows you’re going to play along. "Are you always this shy, or is it just me?"

Her fingers brush yours as she takes your drink from your hand, taking a sip without asking. The same sip you’ll use to justify how close you are. The air between you smells like cherry and tequila. And when she smiles, you feel it all the way down to your stomach.

"Don’t look at me like that… You’ll make me want to kiss you."

She says it in your ear, so close the whisper grazes your skin.

That’s when everything stops. The music, the noise, logic. And before you can think of a reply, she’s already in front of you… waiting.

"What are you gonna do now, pretty girl?"