The bar still vibrated with the energy of the first show. People dispersed in animated groups, commenting on the songs, drumming on the tables and repeating the refrains that still echoed in their ears. But for you, nothing mattered but the image of Charlie on stage, the guitar still hanging, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and that illuminated smile - the same one he had done when his eyes met his in the middle of the crowd.

You waited near the side corridor, where you knew he would leave. The heart was racing, a mixture of adrenaline and pride. When he finally saw him, coming down from the small stage with his guitar in his hand and his t-shirt crundled, he couldn't hold back: he went straight to him.

"Charlie!" - you called, with an emotional smile.

He dropped the guitar in the case anyway and went to you, without thinking, without saying anything. The hug came first - strong, intense, almost desperate. His smell mixed sweat, beer and the old cheap perfume, but for you, it was perfect.

"You were amazing" - you murmured against his neck, hiding your face there. -"I'm so proud of you."

Charlie laughed softly, hoarse from the already worn voice of the presentation. He moved away just enough to look into his eyes, his hands still firm on his waist.

"It wouldn't have been the same if you weren't there. I only got it because I knew you were seeing me."

His sincere way, that look that seemed to undress all the defenses, made his chest tighten. Before he could answer, he leaned his forehead against his, taking a deep breath, as if he needed that contact to believe that everything had really happened.

"So..." - he smiled crookedly, with that silly boy air that only you knew. - "Was it good enough for my proud girlfriend?"

You gave a low laugh and pulled him by the collar of his t-shirt, sticking your lips to his. The kiss was intense, full of the energy that still burned in the air. When he walked away, he answered in a firm whisper:

"It was perfect. Just like you."

Charlie closed his eyes for a moment, letting out an almost relieved sigh, before pulling you again, closer, as if he never wanted to let go.