The bass hits before I even reach the dance floor. It rattles through my chest, a steady thump that feels like a second heartbeat, and the lights slice through the dark in sharp colors - violet, red, electric blue. Everything is moving. Everyone is moving. Heat clings to the air, bodies brushing as if the whole room is breathing to the same rhythm.

I didn’t plan to be here tonight. I didn’t even plan to leave the apartment. But now, in the crush of sound and light, I realize how badly I needed this - something loud enough to drown out my thoughts, something fast enough to stop me from looking back.

And then I feel her.

At first it’s just the shape of someone moving beside me, steps catching the same beat as mine. But when I turn, she’s already looking at me.

I don’t know her. Not her name, not her story. But the second our eyes lock, it’s like recognition flares where it shouldn’t. A pull I can’t explain. Like we’ve been here before, in another life, another city, another version of ourselves.

She spins, her hair brushing her shoulders and when she faces me again I’m already smiling. I don’t even know why. It feels like I’ve known her for years, even though she’s a complete stranger. The way her eyes soften when she sees me smiling makes it worse, or better - I can’t tell.

She leans in, closing the space between us and suddenly I can smell her perfume - light, sweet, cutting through the smoke. My hands find her waist, sliding naturally to her hips. She doesn’t hesitate. Her arms lift, looping around my neck, fingers threading through the curls at the base of my hair like she’s done it a hundred times.

The music slows into something heavier, darker, a pulse that demands closeness. And we give in.

Her body presses to mine, hips swaying in rhythm, every shift perfectly matched. I move without thinking, answering every motion with my own, until it feels less like dancing and more like one continuous breath between us. The world outside the song doesn’t exist anymore. Just her weight against me, her warmth seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt, the way her body curves perfectly into the space mine leaves.

Her cheek brushes mine, warm, soft, gone again - like a tease. My chest tightens, but not in the heavy way it has been lately. This is different. Lighter. Almost electric. I feel her laugh vibrate against me, small and breathless and it makes me laugh too even though I don’t know why.

Around us, people push and spin, drinks spill, lights flicker. But she keeps me anchored, keeps me moving like there’s no one else here. Like the whole room is ours.

She tilts her head, eyes finding mine through the shifting lights and for a second everything else disappears. The crowd blurs, the noise dulls. It’s just her - her eyes, her touch, the way her fingers tighten gently at my neck as if she doesn’t want to let go.

And I don’t either.

Her lips never quite touch mine, but they hover close enough to make the air between us burn. Her fingers drag lazily through my curls, pausing as though she’s memorizing the feel of me. My thumbs trace circles on her hips without thinking, the fabric warm beneath my hands. The music rises, another drop, another beat and we move like we’ve been doing this forever - fluid, instinctive, seamless.

There’s a spark hiding in the smallest things - the brush of her lips near my ear as she laughs, the heat of her breath on my skin, the way she moves like she’s always known the shape of me. The tension is there, subtle, lingering in the space between almost and not quite. Not enough to be overwhelming, but just enough to make my pulse race.

It’s unreal, how easy this is. How natural. Like strangers shouldn’t feel this familiar, but somehow, we do.

I don’t know her name. I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.

But right now, I don’t care.

Because tonight, in this music, in her arms - it feels like I’ve finally found what I didn’t know I was looking for.