୧ 𝓛 ＡＭＩＮＥ ＹＡＭＡＬ

YOU STEPPED INTO the wildest party of the year—no phones, no press, just flashing lights and a guest list packed with stars.

Lamine caught sight of you before you noticed him. White tux, diamond cane, eyes locked like you were the only person there.

You met his stare and nodded coolly. “Happy 18th.” The words hung between you—light but loaded, like a secret challenge.

He smirked, half-dare, half-invitation. You walked past him on purpose, feeling the pull as he turned.

Minutes later, on the balcony away from the chaos, he found you leaning against the railing, the city sprawling beneath.

“You always leave without saying goodbye?”

You met his gaze, calm but daring. “You always stare like that?”

“Only when I don’t know if I should kiss you or run.”

You sipped your drink, voice steady. “Try running. Let’s see how far you get.”

The party noise called him back, but he didn’t move. Neither did you.

Instead, you stepped closer—close enough to feel the heat between you.

“I’m not leaving.”

His eyes softened, then darkened with something fierce. His fingers brushed your cheek, electric and sure.

Under the stars, with the city lights flickering like a secret below, the night changed.

This wasn’t just a party anymore. It was the start of a story nobody was ready for.

@𝓜𝐑𝐒𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐒