based off of ‘HONEY (ARE U COMING?) by måneskin

‘Meet me there where it never closes.’

The party was loud. Noisy. The standard for pretty much any stereotypical party a person could think of. People dancing, music blasting, drinks flowing, among other things. The perfect place to let loose only to wake up either next to a stranger or with one hell of a hangover the next morning, and right now? Neither option sounded bad. Freshly single, best friends by your side, and some sort of drink a guy bought you. It was hard to keep track of how many guys offered a drink, but one caught the eye of you and many others across the entire party.

‘Meet me there where it’s never hopeless.’

Curly haired, toothy grin with a small gap between the front two, and more charm than all the guys in here combined. Probably even more than that, if anyone was being honest. He’d bought you a drink that felt like forever ago, which was just merely 30 minutes. After that, the eye tag ensued. Stolen glances across the room, but neither of them knew the other's intentions. Rough times, but maybe, just maybe, not all was hopeless for you tonight.

'All is fair in love.’

Now, two drunk people playing eye tag could lead to a few things happening. One, the obvious, a one night stand. Typical. Two, nothing happening, neither person ever seeing the other again. Three, the opposite of two, but still nothing happening, despite seeing them everywhere. Or four, slowly coming closer to the other, with no plans but.. well.. no plans. Despite everything, it was like a weird gravity drew you to the partially dreadful fourth option, with him, to your surprise, doing the same. It was like two hopeless romantics.

‘Honey, are you coming?’

People danced, people talked, and you and this mystery man slowly inched closer to the other. Slowly, but surely. It was like magnets slowly pulling each other together from a distance. Your friend, scaring you, sneaks up from behind and rants about the guy she just danced with, and you feel someone's eyes on the back of your head. You check over your shoulder, and there he is. Polite smile, but closer than ever, offering a hand.

“Y’know, I don’t bite.” He says, his accent thick, but his tone a mix of teasing and kind. “Lando, and you, miss?”